


Tightrope. A Fred Weasley Fanfiction

by nightlyjamboree



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Rivalry, Romance, Workplace Relationship, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29309751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlyjamboree/pseuds/nightlyjamboree
Summary: WARNING: 18+ READERS ONLY! (Will contain heavy sexual content, language, drugs, violence.. eventually, this is a slow burn)Fred was happy living above the shop with George, until a run in with a bossy business woman, Daphne Velps, stirs up some excitement in his life. Can Fred and Daphne work together without killing each other? It's a thin line between love and hate, and Fred and Daphne are using it as a tightrope.DISCLAIMER: All original Harry Potter character credit goes to J.K. Rowling but we still don't respect or like her here.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. The Girl in Green

It had been a normal, chaotic day at the shop the day he saw her for the first time. Just like normal Fred and his twin, George had ascended the stairs from the shop to the flat, eager to sit down after a long day of being on their feet. 

The hallway up to the flat was painted a rich red colour, the same as the shop and the interior of their flat. Slightly scuffed on the walls and staircase from all those times the twins and their friends had raced down the stairs, and some dodgy-looking singes and burn marks after various incidents testing products. The flat was in a similar state. Some odd stains adorned the wooden floor after a few spillages during their first few years in business. The boys soon learned that they needed somewhere a bit, further away, to test in, which led to them buying an abandoned warehouse back in Birmingham near the burrow, where they could cause chaos in peace. However Fred and George still smiled when they looked down at the floor, the green splodge from a faulty portable swamp, a bookshelf where one of the selves grows a small patch of hair after a spillage of a prototype of their moustache miracle grow, even the burnt rug on the carpet from the Weasley's whiz-bangs firework collection. 

All those memories of starting out were so fond to him. Years had passed since they first left Hogwarts to open the shop, they were 24 now, still not able to grow up of course, despite their age. After 7 years of owning the shop, The brothers had finally gotten to a place where the business was doing well enough that the shop was almost entirely run by other staff. This, to their delight, meant that the twins could take a step back from customer service and spend their time working on inventing and testing new products, rather than be stuck behind the till all day. After the success of their branch in Hogsmeade, the twins had helped to open a small branch of their business in Paris, with one of their sister in laws, Fleur's cousins' running it for them. Fred was happy, content with his business, saw his friends and family often, but just occasionally felt as though something was missing. 

After returning home that day, Fred leaned against the bay window in their flat above the shop, the remnants of summer were quickly slipping away, and September presented him with a grey afternoon. The shop had closed for the day. The table in the middle of the room was strewn with various books and pages of the new Weasley's Wizard Wheezes prototype, joke books. Fred and George planned to sell special editions of 'classic' literature, but the pages inside turned to silliness and frivolities when read, carefully changing back to the original text if in the hands of someone undesirable, such as a professor or prying parents. They'd rustled up a few prototypes to test, planning on launching them in time for Christmas. Fred had just finished enchanting a version of The Great Gatsby where Daisy was Professor Snape, knowing this would go down well with Hogwarts students. 

That's when he saw her.

He gazed down at the cobbled streets, coffee in hand, when his golden eyes fell upon a young girl scurrying down the pavement. He watched her best attempt to carry two coffee cups, what looked like a tote bag full of paper and notebooks, and a hefty looking book under her arm. The late September sun illuminated her face, which Fred examined as she moved her head to flick her brunette hair out of her way efficiently. He was sure he recognised her, he wasn't sure where from. Fred smirked at the steely look of determination in her eyes, which were rather pretty, so he thought. He wondered how she managed to manoeuvre the cobblestones in those silly little boots, as she began to turn a corner into the next street. Fred wordlessly moved along to the next bay window in the flat, giving him a better view of Snicket Lane, where the girl carried on her journey. Easy to spot in her green jacket, Fred sipped his drink, watching her do the same as she climbed some well worn stone steps. Despite her arms being full, effortlessly used her elbow to open the door in front of her and briskly walked inside, shutting it behind her.

"George?" Fred calls, to the flat behind him,

"Yes?" his twin calls from the kitchen,

"Snicket Lane, where does that blue door lead to?"

"That's the back entrance of the publishing house, I believe. They printed our flyers for our back to school promotion this year, I snuck out of that door when I saw Rita Skeeter near the main entrance... Why?"

"Just curious." Fred explains, taking one last glance out of the window.

\---------

It wasn't long before Fred's next encounter with the dark haired girl from the street. During a particularly quiet afternoon, he flagged his brother down from across their shop,

"I'm going to grab a coffee from across the road, fancy anything mate?"

"I'll have a latte if you don't mind." George replies, receiving a nod from his brother, in confirmation

"Won't be long." Fred shouts over, stepping outside and crossing the street to Rosa Lee's Tea shop, he'd just ordered two drinks at the quaint little cafe, when he heard the bell above the front door jingle as the girl he immediately recognised as the girl from the street strutted in. She was wearing the same silly little boots, but a very different coat this time. She had ditched her green number in favour of a gingham blazer. A hovering quill and notepad floated next to her. She was flicking through a novel of considerable size, occasionally reading something out loud to which the quill eagerly penned down. Fred picked up his coffee and was about to leave, but lingered for just a few seconds longer than was necessary. Just to see the girl hold up her hand to to quill to halt it's writing, and to ask, in a polite, cheerful tone, for

"A macchiato and a black coffee please. Two sugars." before lowering her hand once again to let the quill continue with whatever she had previously dictated. Fred smirked as he left, once again amused by the girls somewhat flamboyant presence.

The following morning was business as usual. George sang quietly to himself as he strolled through the flat, shirt undone, bagel in hand, getting ready for work. The golden autumnal sunlight streamed through the large windows, telling Fred that today was going to be pleasant. That was until a familiar screech sounded at the window, and Fred was delivered a bundle of letters by owl. He flicked through carelessly, recognising the handwriting of his mother, the landlord, his brother, Charlie... Until he came across one addressed to him and his twin, in a sleek blue envelope, their address printed in typewritten ink. He pushed his thumb through the top of the envelope, ripping it open and leafing through the papers inside.

"Dear Mr F and G Weasley.

It has come to our attention that you intend to publish some 'prank' novels in your shop this winter. Our legal team has been notified of this and have invited you to a meeting on Thursday the 3rd, 4pm at our Diagon Alley offices. We would like to alert you that some of the titles you intend to parody are in fact owned and distributed by Buckling and Wicks, so without proper investigation by our legal team we will be unable to grant you the rights and access to these texts.

Our offices are 54-56 Gutenberg Court, in the publishing quarter. We are situated between the Ministry Press office and the Daily Prophet HQ buildings.

Kind Regards,

Buckling and Wicks Legal Department."

"Oh shit..." Fred mutters, reading the letter once over before dictating it out loud to his brother.

"Well.... What do you reckon? You think they'll let us use them?" George asked,

"Depends.... I think that Potions textbook is one of theirs, I don't know if they'll take kindly to that crude drawing of Snape that appears on page 60." Fred warns, receiving a chuckle from George, recalling that drawing as his own handiwork. Fred rubbed his hand against his temple in frustration, perhaps the day would not turn out as pleasant as he once thought.


	2. Ties and Tribulations

The morning of the meeting, the twins were having breakfast together discussing what they thought might be in store for them that afternoon. They tried to reassure each other that the company probably only wanted some financial compensation for their work.

"What shall we wear?" George asked, still donned in his dressing gown and boxers.

"Just a suit I suppose, something professional." Fred supposed, chewing his cereal.

"Everythings at the burrow, mom took our laundry..." George gulped, realising that the day may have more stress for them than they initially thought.

"Shit..." Fred whispered, "What about those boring old grey ones we never wear... Those ones we wore when Uncle Septimus married his 4th wife?" he suggests. They both hurried to their rooms, ransacking the wardrobes. George pokes his head around Fred's bedroom door triumphantly a few minutes later, wearing the boring blazer and trousers in question, with a plain shirt and a tie hanging undone around his Neck. Fred, who was buckling the belt on the suit trousers around his waist, recalled yesterday's incident with a catherine wheel. The firework had claimed the life of his last clean tie in a fiery rage. "Shit..." he muttered again, realising he had no tie. George clocked on using their uncanny twin telepathy, before suggesting to his brother,

"Why don't you pop down to Madame Malkins?"

"She's closed on Thursdays." Fred groaned,

"Twilfitt and Tattings is still open..." George offered, receiving an expected groan from his brother, knowing full well his brother wouldn't want to go to the robe shop that was frequented by such snobs.

"Fine. If I have no other choice..." Fred huffed, making his way out of the door.

The ornate shop window of Twilfitt and Tattings was full of expensive looking robes. There were dresses embroidered in designs that moved, one with a tiger prowling around the hem, sheets of velvet that moved in the light, and suits fit for royalty. The bell above the door jingled as Fred entered, gazing around to see that the inside was just as luxurious as the window had advertised. Fred skulked away to where he saw some ties hanging up, and overheard the shopkeeper in lively conversation with somebody.

"So Hugo, we have the new catalogue ready to go when you are, are you sure you want the tangerine background, there's been a disaster with the orange ink at the press..." A female voice chattered, and the shop assistant was replying as if he knew her well. "Don't get me started, it's going to be a long day." she continued, sighing as if she'd already had enough. Fred took this opportunity to turn around, and to his shock, and delight, saw the brunette girl he'd been looking out for the past few weeks.

"Can I help you, sir?" The shop assistant, a dark haired man, who wore a perfectly tailored pinstripe navy suit, asked, in an excessively posh accent.

"I just need a tie." Fred said, unusually shy in the presence of the girl he felt as though he had been unintentionally spying on. He looked at the vast array of colours and patterns, slightly overwhelmed by choice.

"For any particular occasion?" Hugo asks, moving away from the counter where the girl stood,

"Just work. I have an important meeting today and mine got... injured." Fred answered, and before Hugo could ask anything else, the brunette girl, who as it turns out, was much shorter than she looked from the window of the flat, marched over to where Fred stood. She eyed up the ties intently, inspecting each pattern and material before swiftly picking out a purple baroque patterned one, in what looked like a very expensive silk. Her piercing eyes looked up at his, then back down at the tie,

"There. Suits you." She says resolutely, after holding it up to his neck. She then bit off the tag, much to Fred's horror, who was still thinking about how much it may cost. At this distance, he could smell the sweet perfume coming from her, which along with a very pretty smile, seemed to soothe the potential pain of the price label he was yet to see. She gently placed the tie around his neck, looping it neatly into a windsor knot, before patting his lapels gently, neatening his appearance slightly.

"Thank you..." He says, a tad confused, and a touch smitten.

"You're very welcome. Hugo, put that tie on my tab." She called over, as she began to walk toward the door.

"I can't accept that-" Fred argued, unable to accept a gift such as that from a stranger,

"Don't argue." She replied, turning to Hugo, "Hugo, do not let this man pay for that tie, or there'll be trouble. Good luck at your meeting." She smiled, giving a small salute to the men as she opened the front door, and briskly walked out. Fred was shocked, not quite processing what had just happened. Hugo smiled at him,

"Will that be all today, sir?"

"I suppose it will. Would you please let me pay for it th-"

"No." Hugo interrupted.

"But I can't accept a gift this expens-"

"You don't disagree with Daphne, if you're wise, you'll know it's just not something you do."

"If you're sure..." Fred relinquished trying to argue, clearly understanding he wasn't getting anywhere with Hugo.

"You're lucky, she has impeccable taste. Just know you'll be the best dressed at work today." Hugo offers, adjusting the tape measure that lay around his shoulders. So Fred left, with a spring in his step, pleased to have finally found out the name of the girl who had caught his eye.

"Daphne.." He spoke aloud to himself, looking at the tie around his neck and smiling.

That afternoon, Fred and George showed up to the publishing house, rather sheepishly, to present their case. They were led to an office papered in blue floral decor, where a group of two men in suits, and a lady in a formal dress sat, in front a table full of various folders and papers. The brothers exchanged greetings with the group, before saying,

"Right then, shall we get started?"

"We're just waiting on Miss Velps. She had a meeting with a client just before this." The woman explains, clasping her hands together patiently as she waited. All of a sudden, the door creaked open and a young looking boy, no more than 19 years old, pokes his head around the office door.

"Can I get anyone anything to drink? Miss Velps is on her way now..." He glances back down the corridor behind him warily, "I don't think the meeting went well." he said in a hushed tone, "She sounds angry." Fred had visions of a stout, bitter, middle-aged spinster bursting through the door, especially when he heard the sound of heels clicking sharply along the floor, echoing through the offices. Then his mental image was shattered when he then heard the youthful, silvery voice of a woman complaining as she approached the room.

"And now I have to deal with these bloody joke shop prats. I spent last night reading their version of Pride and Prejudice, Mr Darcy takes puking pastilles and vomits all over Lizzie Bennet's dress at the ball.. It's blasphemy, I've never heard anything like it!" She exclaims, to the PA who looked on in a terrified manner as she turned the corner of the door, entering the room to be faced with the very people she had been complaining about.

"Joke shop prats?" Fred asks, in offence, with a raised eyebrow, "That's a new one." with his back still to the door. He turns his head with an incredulous smirk, only to be presented with the very same girl who that very morning, purchased the tie that was currently around his neck.

"My apologies, Weasleys...." She began, after turning the corner and seeing that they were in the room. Her eyes fall upon the brothers and widen in surprise, remembering her encounter with Fred. "That was very rude of me. It's been a long morning, and I'm very protective of my Austen. I stand by it though. You're making a mockery of her." She explains, putting her handbag down on the floor beside her, gracefully sinking down into her seat and crossing her legs towards the boys. She smoothed out her teal green satin skirt which fell at her calf, and the sweet smell of the perfume Fred had noticed earlier began to fill the room.

"We can tell. And have you read it all? Lizzie gets her own back at the end... I think it's what Austen would have wanted" George offers, receiving a glare from Miss Velps in response. Daphne was preparing to verbally take him down a peg or two. Until one of the lawyers, Mr Hobbs, a thin man with very kind, but very tired looking eyes, took this opportunity to save them some hassle and began speaking before she could blow up.

"So down to business." Hobbs begins, tapping his fingers on the documents before him. "You can parody any of our fiction books with a 10% commission to Buckling and Wicks. But our clients are firm on not allowing for any mockery of their textbooks." he explained, to which the twins winced, knowing full well the textbooks would be hugely popular with Hogwarts students especially.

"10%" Commission?" Fred asks, turning his attention to the girl who had insulted him earlier. "If you think these books are so blasphemous, and in such poor taste, surely you therefore think they won't sell well... So why the need for such a large cut to your company?" He attests,

"I don't think the books themselves are in poor taste, I imagine the joke textbooks will be great fun, I just think its pointless to dumb down Austen." Daphne rebutes, looking at the mock copy of Pride and Prejudice on the table.

"Teenagers don't want the stiff upper lip anymore." he argues back, "The whole rivals to lovers scenario is so unrealistic, kids don't want to hear about that anymore. We have to change it up to make it appeal to them at all these days."

"If you think that, Mr Weasley, dare I say, perhaps you've never been in love.... But that's quite another matter. 10% is as low as we go, take it or we refuse the rights." She accosted, flowing so easily between such a cutting remark to strict business talk that Fred was taken aback. His mouth opened in shock at what she'd just told him, although irritated he was determined not to let her comment ruin the meeting for their business. The twins bargained back and forth, for about 20 minutes. Miss Velps, who was still stewing about Fred's dismissal of classic literature, had sat back uninterested, during all the talk of numbers, suddenly perked up.

"May I make a suggestion?" She asked, tapping her pen absentmindedly against the wooden table.

"Please..." The legal team gestured to their various documents, to suggest that their ideas were getting them nowhere with the boys, who proved themselves to be quite stubborn, and although Daphne hated to admit it, totally competent businessmen, despite her initial estimations of them.

"Fred, George... If I may. Why use one of our textbooks as a model? Write your own." She stated, as if the solution were simple.

"But we don't know enough about potions,-" George began, "Or any of the other subjects for that matter."

"I don't doubt that you have plenty of friends from school who are proficient enough to fill a basic textbook. It doesn't need to be exhaustive, just enough to look convincing.... And if you are no longer infringing the copyright of our clients, I'm sure I, the legal team, and the rest of us at Buckling and Wicks would be more than happy to strike up a deal with you to publish and print these 'textbooks'..." She proposed, as the legal team nodded in approval at her hypothesis.

"That might just work." one of the lawyers agreed, and the twins hesitated,

"I'll even settle for 9% commission for us... For two handsome young men like you." Daphne offered, embellishing her point with a flick of her pen. Something about her told the twins that the comment was not so much a flirtation as it was a business tactic. There was something so decidedly mature about the young girl which just made it sound more like something their mother would say.

"I'm happy with that..." George replied, looking to his twin for a response, Fred looked back at George, reluctant to admit that the woman who had just insulted him was in fact, right. Although he couldn't deny the plan was better than their original idea was to begin with.

"Fine..." he agrees flippantly.

"In that case, I'll get that written up for you, and we'll send it off for you two to sign off on." Mis Velps states, standing up and fastening her blazer, offering a hand for the boys to shake.

"Pleasure doing business with you." George smiles, shaking her hand graciously,

"Pleasures all mine." She responds, waiting for Fred to take her hand, which he does, after George nudges him hard.

Fred and George exit out of the back door, and as they step out onto Snicket Lane, George notices his brother's sulking face. A smile teased its way onto George's lips, ever since they were little, Fred had had a harder time controlling his temper than George had, and could hold a fierce grudge far better than George ever could.

"What?" George asks, with a sneaking suspicion that this temper might be about to make an appearance.

"She called us prats!" Fred exclaims, clearly affronted, causing George to laugh at how offended Fred had become, just as he predicted.

"And? People have called us much worse." he responded, in a nonchalant voice, strolling back toward their flat.

"But she doesn't even know me... us." Fred asserted, correcting his verbal slip-up and hoping his brother would take no notice of it.

"Doesn't matter. She's helped us out big time, without her we'd be without our leading product for the christmas line this year.." George explains, unable to see an issue with Daphne's no-nonsense attitude.

"Yeah, lining her pockets too of course." Fred continues, desperate to convince his brother that Daphne was in fact, not good news.

"That's her job, mate." to which Fred grumbles something unintelligible in response. The twins returned home, and Fred settled into the armchair with an apprehensive feeling in his stomach, he wasn't sure why, but he knew something was changing.

That evening, the twins, their brother Ron, and Harry Potter sat chatting animatedly around the living room, after ordering a takeaway from the Indian restaurant down the street. Ron and Harry often shared dinner with the twins after a day of work at the Ministry. Fred takes a seat around where the food was placed on their large coffee table. He reached to his neck to loosen his tie before remembering his encounter at Twilfit and Tattings that morning. The memory flooded back, so he pulled the tie off in agitation, chucking it down onto the floor next to him with animosity. Ron looks confused at his brothers strange behaviour, and picks it up, admiring the garment,

"Very nice... Where did you get this?" He asks, running his thumb over the silky design. Through a mouthful of rice Fred hisses,

"Don't ask."

"What?" George asks in confusion, glancing to the tie in Ron's hand, having forgotten all about Fred's errand to fetch it this morning. "He bought it this morning..." George explained to Ron, before becoming even more confused at Fred's moody reaction, "What happened?"

"Velps."

"What?" George asked again, still confused, "Did she insult your outfit now too? Did I happen to miss that part of the meeting?" he teases,

"No. She bought me that tie." Fred states, chewing his food as if he didn't care, but his eyes begged to differ.

"Who?" Ron asked in confusion,

"I walked into the tailors this morning and there she is, skipping about in those silly little boots. She picked out a tie for me and paid for it. Pompous girl didn't let the poor fella at the till do his job. Just trying to show off how much money she makes I bet." Fred explains, clearly unhappy.

"We had a meeting at the publishers this afternoon, and one of them wasn't overly thrilled with our joke book idea, and Fred's taken it a little personally." George explains, smiling at how riled up Fred had gotten.

"Daphne Velps?" Harry asks, looking at Ron who chuckled,

"You know her?" Fred asked,

"Yeah, she's the one who always helps us get out of trouble at the Ministry Press office. She's given Rita Skeeter a few misleading stories to get us off the hook a few times." he explains, recalling some of the sticky situations Daphne had helped them out of,

"Brilliant girl." Ron nods,

"A bit formidable though, I know what you mean, Fred." Harry adds, nodding his head when he remembered just how strict she could be.

"Formidable? She's rude. And who gave her that authority anyway, what is she, 22? Bet her dad owns the place, and got her the job."

"Her dads an electrician at work actually, really nice guy." Harry states, matter of factly,

"And I believe she got a highly sought after internship at Buckling & Wicks as soon as she left Hogwarts, she's very clever." Ron explains, stuffing his mouth with naan bread.

"Oh..."Fred resigns, realising his attempts to find faults in this girl were futile.

"Look, the poor girl was just doing her job and she's got right under his skin." George teases, poking Fred in the collarbone in jest. To which Fred bats him away. "I thought she was funny."

"Friends with Malfoy too" Fred says, putting down his bowl in realistation,

"What on Earth are you on about now?"

"Velps. She was friends with Malfoy." He says between chews, it suddenly dawns on George that Fred may have lost the plot. He swallows his bite before continuing, "She was friends with him. She's Ron and Harry's year actually. Explains a lot."

"Are you still on about her?" George chuckles, surprised at how much this woman had gotten under Fred's skin.

"She couldn't have been that bad." Harry smiles, "I know she can be a bit... curt, when she's working, but she's one of the only women who works there, you'd have to be."

"She told me I was incapable of love." Fred complains, folding his arms like a child having a tantrum.

"Come off it." George interrupts, "All she said was that if he didn't like Jane Austen, he must not have been in love yet." he explains, to which Harry and Ron nod as if it was a valid point, receiving a shocked and offended look from Fred.

"She's not wrong, mate." Ron says, breaking out into laughter, as Fred eyebrows furrowed in anger.

"Shut up." Fred mutters. The boys hit what they knew to be a sore subject. Since leaving Hogwarts, Fred had gotten together with Katie Bell, an old schoolmate of theirs. He broke it off with her after two years, and George knew better than to bring up that situation. All Fred's other friends knew was that Fred and Katie were not on good terms, and they knew better than to pry, knowing how badly he'd taken that breakup. Of course, he still managed to pull plenty of girls with the boisterous, overly flirtatious nature that he and George shared, he just never kept any around for longer than a night. He'd spent the rest of the time single, claiming he wasn't ready, but his friends and family knew he was just highly selective and very strict on the girls he dated, most contenders falling short before they got anywhere serious. George shoots Ron and Harry a look, and they move on, not wanting to light the fuse on Fred's short temper.

"Anyway, Harry, can I try a bit of that Bhuna?" Ron asks, not waiting for an answer before tucking into the dish in front of Harry.


	3. A Visit

On a brisk afternoon in October, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was alive with kids of all ages, browsing through the new products Fred and George had brought out just for Halloween. Fred was just helping a young girl find the tongue ton toffees when he turned around to see a familiar face. Daphne had just walked into his shop. Her sleek brown hair fell in waves around her. He couldn't deny that even windswept- she was annoyingly pretty. He felt a rush of adrenaline course through his veins as he made his way toward her, ready to ask her what on earth she was doing in his shop. He frowned as she looked around bewildered, he mentally prepared his opening line, only to be beaten to it by George, who was friendly to her, much to Fred's annoyance.

"Hello Daphne, what can we do for you today?" George asks, surprised when his twin approaches and puts his hand firmly on George's shoulder.

"I've been sent to buy a birthday present for my boss' son. He's 10." She explains, looking around at everything, her blue eyes darting from shelf to shelf, taking it all in.

"He's done very well indeed to become your boss at only 10 years old!" George replies, receiving a playful eye roll from Daphne in response.

"I have no idea about children or toys. I'm a bit lost, to be honest with you.." She trails off, eyes wandering around the vast store. Fred leans into his brother while the girls' attention is elsewhere,

"What's she got to come here for?" he mutters, to which George glares in annoyance. They appear like they're going to squabble until the girl turns around, dragging their attention away from each other.

"Surprised you've graced us with your presence Miss Velps." Fred says, in a dismissive tone, "Thought you were above silly little joke shops." he quipped, unable to shake the annoyance she'd caused him when she initially dismissed the twins as two prats with a joke shop.

"I thought that my boss's son might like this stuff, if it appeals to the manchild who owns the place, a ten year old should love it." she retorts quickly, giving him a smile, leaving Fred gobsmacked at her cheekiness, "Anyway, George, darling. I have some lovely ink samples for you to take a look at, how are you?" she continues, her tone of voice turning velvety smooth and honey-sweet as she turned to George.

"I'm well, thank you Daphne..." George says, taking Daphne's arm in a gentlemanly manner as they begin to stroll around the shop. "How long do you have?"

"I'm getting paid for this... So as long as you like." she replies, "Any chance you could do me a little hamper of all of your best sellers?" she asked,

"Money no object I assume." Fred says, over their shoulders, snarkiness obvious in his tone. Daphne didn't dignify him with a reply, instead continuing looking to George for a response. George smiles at her before turning around to shoot Fred a look of warning, to behave himself.

"I can absolutely do that." George offers warmly, picking up a skiving snack box to begin the bundle. "I'll get one of the members of staff to pick some stuff out and wrap it up for you. Fancy popping to the office and showing me those samples?" He asked, opening his arm out and gesturing toward the back of the shop, where their office was.

"You're a star." She replies, following him toward the back rooms. She smiled to herself at the overwhelming sights around her. Kids of all ages scurried around with glee, and Daphne was grateful for the nice quiet office she would be going back to after this. Fred shuffled behind them, unwilling to let George completely destroy their pride by being nice to the snobby girl. When he entered through the office door, Daphne was pulling samples of pages with different coloured ink on them from her bag. "So I'm thinking this red colour for that Defence Against the Dark Arts textbooks turns into that vampire horror story." she explained, flicking through a sample text, and holding up little cards with different shades of red on them.

"Positively hair-raising..." George agrees, holding the red ink up to the light to admire it.

"George. We don't really have time for this..." Fred reminds his brother, from the doorway, arms folded indignantly. "The headless hats have been empty for an hour, we need to restock them as soon as possible." George puts down the paper, gives Fred an annoyed look, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"You know what Daphne. He's right, I'm really sorry but we are really busy today. How about you join us for dinner tonight and we can discuss it then?" George asks politely, as Fred's indignant face turns to shock and annoyance.

"Are you sure?" Daphne asks, "I wouldn't want to intrude.."

"Don't be silly! We're in business together now, and I for one, would love to get to know you better..." George smiles, "Even better, I'll ask Harry and Ron to pop round, shall we say, 7pm? I'll see if they'll bring the girls too, they were your year at Hogwarts weren't they... Come on, it'll be fun."

"If you're sure you don't mind then I'd love to! It'll be nice to see the lads too." Daphne agreed, and began packing up her things. She adjusted her warm looking scarf around her neck before departing, giving George's arm a friendly, affectionate squeeze as she bids him farewell. "I'll see you later, Fred... Take care." She says, keeping her distance from him. Fred nods, mumbling something that could have sounded like a goodbye if you were listening carefully. As soon as the door shuts behind her the twins shouts overlap each other,

"Why did you invite her for tea?" Fred exclaims, while George asks

"What is your problem?"

"What's my problem? What's your problem? How come you two are suddenly best mates?" He asks, sounding appalled.

"She's lovely." George states simply,

"She's precocious. And rude."

"All she did was call you a prat.... And me too. As a matter of fact, get over it Fred, we are prats!"

"She called me a manchild!" Fred exclaimed, stomping his foot down on the wooden floorboard to emphasise his point.

"To be honest mate, you're acting like one! You're twenty-bloody-four, letting a harmless joke get you riled up like this is a bit pathetic." George scolded, embarrassed that his brother was being so rude about a girl who was working to help them out.

"She doesn't respect us, and we've gone into business with her..." He starts trailing off, before turning to point and George, "Now you've invited her to the flat! My lovely flat. She's going to click her stupid heels all over our floor."

"Don't be ridiculous, Fred. This is all a bit dramatic." George offered, once again trying to reason with his twin, although Fred was having none of it, and walked back out to the shop floor, unwilling to listen to his brother.

\----

Fred spent the rest of his shift with a strange knot in his stomach in anticipation of tonight's meal. A dread consumed him, at the thought of having to deal with that girl, and a strange excitement... he admittedly took delight in chastising her, giving her a piece of his mind was becoming one of his new favourite things. He and George jogged up the stairs to their flat that evening to begin phoning around their friends to invite them. Harry and Ron showed up in no time at all, having just finished work, they took off their shoes and jackets and immediately headed for the sofa. Before long the TV was playing a muggle film Harry had spoken about before, The Goonies. Fred had watched it a few years ago when he took an interest in 80's cinema, although it still didn't compare to his favourite, Indiana Jones. Before long, Hermione showed up with Ginny in tow, early as usual. Ginny walked over and planted a kiss on Harry, jumping on the sofa next to him. Hermione, slightly more reserved, greeted Fred and George, before blushing as Ron kissed her cheek to greet her, while on his way to fetch her a drink.

"Oh, Daphne's coming by for dinner." George announced,

"Daphne?" Hermione asked, the name ringing a bell to her,

"Daphne Velps?" Ginny asked, getting up from her position on the sofa, untangling her limbs from Harrys. George nods in response, "Brilliant!" Ginny smiles, "I haven't seen her in ages, she was a riot at school."

"Her?" Fred asked, "She seems a bit all work and no play to me."

"Please..." Ginny laughs, "You've clearly never spoken to her after a bottle of wine. She's ace, oh I'm so glad she's coming."

As if by magic, right on time, the door knocks. Ginny scrambled over the back of the sofa, to open it. Daphne stood in a smart blouse and black flares, and the very same silly boots that Fred had taken such notice of.  
"Ginny?" Daphne exclaimed as Ginny flung her arms around the girl's neck,

"Mate, I am so glad to see you, it's been way too long." Ginny says in a strained voice, still squeezing Daphne tight,

"I've missed you! And I know, I've become a boring old woman... How's the quidditch going darling?"  
"Amazing! You'll have to come to a game!"

"I will, just let me know when.... I can't promise I'll know what's going on, but i'll try my best." Daphne offers,

"I'm so sorry I'm keeping you out here in the hallway, come in!" Ginny beckons, dragging Daphne in by the arm, she extends greetings to everyone.

"Hermione! Don't you look gorgeous," Daphne begins,

"You can talk!" Hermione gushed, hugging her old school pal, "Look at this outfit, now I'm certain they're paying you too much." she joked, admiring the girls clothing, holding Daphne's hand and reaching out her arm so Daphne could do a twirl.

"I wish they didn't keep you cooped up in those offices at the ministry, I could come visit you if you were on the ground floor like the boys.." Daphne pouts, referring to Hermione's desk job at the Ministry in the Department of Regulation.

"We'll go for lunch one of the days." Hermione decides, "I'll send you my itinerary." in her usual no-nonsense manner, receiving a curt nod from Daphne.

"As nice as it is to see you, what on earth are you doing here?" Ginny asked, after reclaiming her spot next to Harry.

"She's working with us." George replies on Daphne's behalf, "She's trying to shape us into proper gentlemen."

"Now I don't know if that's possible, but if anybody can do it, It's Daphne." Hermione smiles, unbeknownst to the group, Fred was leaning against the kitchen counter, disappointedly watching all of his friends get on well with her.

"Well then..." Fred began, looking toward the group, "Shall we order something in?"

\---

The group settled on a chinese takeaway, and ordered enough to feed a small army. While they waited for it to arrive, Daphne pulled out the ink samples she had intended to show George earlier that day.

"Fred, you can see what you think." She offered, flicking through some of the pages of various colours. "I like this red." She continued, pointing a pink fingernail at a rich shade of scarlet. Fred extended his hand to point at a more ruby toned shade, as he did, he brushed Daphne's extended hand, and she recoiled at his touch. Her hand was cold but somehow his skin felt even hotter after she touched it. He tried to ignore this distraction as he mumbled something about how that colour would look better. George agreed, and Daphne wrote the name of it down in a notepad next to her. The twins picked out the rest of the ink they wanted, with a little input from their friends around the table.

"That wasn't so bad was it." Daphne teased, as she and Fred's gaze met across the group.

"I suppose not." He admitted reluctantly, as he helped her pile up the books of samples. Daphne slotted them carefully back into her bag, which looked far too heavy for a girl of her size to be lugging around. Much to the hungry group's delight, the doorbell rang, with their food.

After eating, the group sat around the living room catching up with each other. Ginny was sat beside Daphne on the floor, with Harry behind her on the sofa, and every so often, absentmindedly, she'd place a comforting hand against his shin. The girls were laughing, discussing memories from their time at school, with Hermione managing, between giggles to say, "I'm shocked that you're even single!, I always thought you and Draco Malfoy were an item..."

"Everyone says that." Daphne grumbles, "But no, we were, and still are, just very good family friends. And you needn't be shocked that I'm single. My heart belongs to the job."

"So does mine, but I still find time to have a boyfriend." Hermione laughs,

"Oi!" Ron shouts, holding out his hands to gesture his offence and confusion,

"Sorry darling, you know what I mean.... Point is, Daph, a girl like you should not be single!" she continues, as Ron wordlessly accepts her explanation.

"I'm happy, Hermione! Honest." Daphne says resolutely, slightly offended that Hermione thought she would be actively seeking love in the first place.

"I just can't believe you've never got with Draco, not even snogged?" Ginny asked, perplexed,

"Not even snogge-'' Daphne began, until a memory resurfaced, causing her cheeks to flush pink, "Well there was that one game of spin the bottle at that party in our 5th year.... You were there I think Gin?" she asked, covering her face as she giggled in embarrassment.

"Oh god, I was.... Weren't you sick after?"

"We don't speak of it..." Daphne says, putting her hand over her face in embarrassment, as the girls spin into fits of giggles.

"I always used to be confused as to why a cool girl was so close with such a rat..." Ron said, widening his eyes as he realised just how candid he'd been about his feelings about Draco. To his relief Daphne just smiled knowingly, shrugging one shoulder as if to show her indifference,

"Look, I know you lot didn't like him... But he's different now I promise, I've known him since we were babies and he was just... In a bad place with not many choices." Daphne begins to defend him, "Don't get me wrong, he's a complete arsehole... But I do love him." earning nods which she supposed meant 'fair enough', from the people around her.

"He was a bit gorgeous though." Ginny stated, poking her elbow into Daphne's ribs, "Not my type of course..." she continued, after receiving a glare from Harry.

"He's a darling, got a lovely girlfriend now too. Bit of a snob but, she'll do..." Daphne explained, receiving a snort from Fred. Daphne looked up at him, tilting her head to one side and asking,

"Sorry, something you wanted to say, Fred?" in a curt voice. His snarky comment had snapped her away from the giggling fit she was sharing with the girls beside her, sick of the constant berating, she awaited his reply.

"Nothing. Just funny." He stated, matter of factly. The group settled into an awkward silence, Hermione and Ginny no longer laughing about Ginny calling Draco gorgeous. The boys held their tongue, having seen Fred's attitude towards Daphne beforehand, they thought it best to not get involved.

"What is?" Daphne asked,

"You, calling someone a snob." Fred mocked, emphasising the word as if she was something distasteful, the unnecessary malice of his words made Daphne wish she could shout something back at him. Although Daphne was well aware she was no longer in the office, and felt obliged to keep her mouth shut. In an attempt to avoid any awkwardness for the rest of the group, she held back the cutting reply she would have ordinarily given, and just climbed to her feet.

"Oh... Well, I. I suppose I better get going. It was lovely to see you all, thank you for having me. Stay in touch..." She said, aiming that last part at the girls, who looked shocked at Fred's comment. Without further ado, Daphne left, grabbing her coat and bag on the way out.

"What the hell, Fred?" Ginny asked, with a voice laced with confusion and anger

"What the hell is your problem?" George asked once again, getting quite sick of Fred's attitude.

"She was sitting there going on about Malfoy, of all people... We hate him, why do we want to be friends with people who associate with people like that." Fred explained, gesturing his hand out as if this were obvious.

"You're pathetic. We were having a laugh." Ginny says,

"I don't know why you've made it your mission to have a problem with her." George commented, fed up with his brother's attitude. Receiving a nod from Ginny in agreement,

"You can't blame her for being rude to you when you're acted cold to her since the start, what gives?" George continues, standing up because it felt like too serious a conversation to have sat down.

"Fred... That was abominably rude." Hermione lectured. Having been unaware of any of the prior tensions that the boys already had seen first hand, Fred's attack on Daphne seemed callous and unfair.

"I don't know why all of you like her so much." Fred grumbles, "Am I The only one who thinks she's stuck up?"

"She is stuck up, but she's an amazing person... If you didn't hold grudges the way you do, and get over whatever reason it is you have to be so against her, you'd probably see that." Ginny retorts, and Fred stared back at her, unable to come up with any kind of response. "Harry, I think we should go." she decides, realising her brother was in one of his strops, and couldn't be reasoned with.


	4. Under Your Skin

On a brisk afternoon in October, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was alive with kids of all ages, browsing through the new products Fred and George had brought out just for Halloween. Fred was just helping a young girl find the tongue ton toffees when he turned around to see a familiar face. Daphne had just walked into his shop. Her sleek brown hair fell in waves around her. He couldn't deny that even windswept- she was annoyingly pretty. He felt a rush of adrenaline course through his veins as he made his way toward her, ready to ask her what on earth she was doing in his shop. He frowned as she looked around bewildered, he mentally prepared his opening line, only to be beaten to it by George, who was friendly to her, much to Fred's annoyance.

"Hello Daphne, what can we do for you today?" George asks, surprised when his twin approaches and puts his hand firmly on George's shoulder.

"I've been sent to buy a birthday present for my boss' son. He's 10." She explains, looking around at everything, her blue eyes darting from shelf to shelf, taking it all in.

"He's done very well indeed to become your boss at only 10 years old!" George replies, receiving a playful eye roll from Daphne in response.

"I have no idea about children or toys. I'm a bit lost, to be honest with you.." She trails off, eyes wandering around the vast store. Fred leans into his brother while the girls' attention is elsewhere,

"What's she got to come here for?" he mutters, to which George glares in annoyance. They appear like they're going to squabble until the girl turns around, dragging their attention away from each other.

"Surprised you've graced us with your presence Miss Velps." Fred says, in a dismissive tone, "Thought you were above silly little joke shops." he quipped, unable to shake the annoyance she'd caused him when she initially dismissed the twins as two prats with a joke shop.

"I thought that my boss's son might like this stuff, if it appeals to the manchild who owns the place, a ten year old should love it." she retorts quickly, giving him a smile, leaving Fred gobsmacked at her cheekiness, "Anyway, George, darling. I have some lovely ink samples for you to take a look at, how are you?" she continues, her tone of voice turning velvety smooth and honey-sweet as she turned to George.

"I'm well, thank you Daphne..." George says, taking Daphne's arm in a gentlemanly manner as they begin to stroll around the shop. "How long do you have?"

"I'm getting paid for this... So as long as you like." she replies, "Any chance you could do me a little hamper of all of your best sellers?" she asked,

"Money no object I assume." Fred says, over their shoulders, snarkiness obvious in his tone. Daphne didn't dignify him with a reply, instead continuing looking to George for a response. George smiles at her before turning around to shoot Fred a look of warning, to behave himself.

"I can absolutely do that." George offers warmly, picking up a skiving snack box to begin the bundle. "I'll get one of the members of staff to pick some stuff out and wrap it up for you. Fancy popping to the office and showing me those samples?" He asked, opening his arm out and gesturing toward the back of the shop, where their office was.

"You're a star." She replies, following him toward the back rooms. She smiled to herself at the overwhelming sights around her. Kids of all ages scurried around with glee, and Daphne was grateful for the nice quiet office she would be going back to after this. Fred shuffled behind them, unwilling to let George completely destroy their pride by being nice to the snobby girl. When he entered through the office door, Daphne was pulling samples of pages with different coloured ink on them from her bag. "So I'm thinking this red colour for that Defence Against the Dark Arts textbooks turns into that vampire horror story." she explained, flicking through a sample text, and holding up little cards with different shades of red on them.

"Positively hair-raising..." George agrees, holding the red ink up to the light to admire it.

"George. We don't really have time for this..." Fred reminds his brother, from the doorway, arms folded indignantly. "The headless hats have been empty for an hour, we need to restock them as soon as possible." George puts down the paper, gives Fred an annoyed look, knowing exactly what he was doing.

"You know what Daphne. He's right, I'm really sorry but we are really busy today. How about you join us for dinner tonight and we can discuss it then?" George asks politely, as Fred's indignant face turns to shock and annoyance.

"Are you sure?" Daphne asks, "I wouldn't want to intrude.."

"Don't be silly! We're in business together now, and I for one, would love to get to know you better..." George smiles, "Even better, I'll ask Harry and Ron to pop round, shall we say, 7pm? I'll see if they'll bring the girls too, they were your year at Hogwarts weren't they... Come on, it'll be fun."

"If you're sure you don't mind then I'd love to! It'll be nice to see the lads too." Daphne agreed, and began packing up her things. She adjusted her warm looking scarf around her neck before departing, giving George's arm a friendly, affectionate squeeze as she bids him farewell. "I'll see you later, Fred... Take care." She says, keeping her distance from him. Fred nods, mumbling something that could have sounded like a goodbye if you were listening carefully. As soon as the door shuts behind her the twins shouts overlap each other,

"Why did you invite her for tea?" Fred exclaims, while George asks

"What is your problem?"

"What's my problem? What's your problem? How come you two are suddenly best mates?" He asks, sounding appalled.

"She's lovely." George states simply,

"She's precocious. And rude."

"All she did was call you a prat.... And me too. As a matter of fact, get over it Fred, we are prats!"

"She called me a manchild!" Fred exclaimed, stomping his foot down on the wooden floorboard to emphasise his point.

"To be honest mate, you're acting like one! You're twenty-bloody-four, letting a harmless joke get you riled up like this is a bit pathetic." George scolded, embarrassed that his brother was being so rude about a girl who was working to help them out.

"She doesn't respect us, and we've gone into business with her..." He starts trailing off, before turning to point and George, "Now you've invited her to the flat! My lovely flat. She's going to click her stupid heels all over our floor."

"Don't be ridiculous, Fred. This is all a bit dramatic." George offered, once again trying to reason with his twin, although Fred was having none of it, and walked back out to the shop floor, unwilling to listen to his brother.

\----

Fred spent the rest of his shift with a strange knot in his stomach in anticipation of tonight's meal. A dread consumed him, at the thought of having to deal with that girl, and a strange excitement... he admittedly took delight in chastising her, giving her a piece of his mind was becoming one of his new favourite things. He and George jogged up the stairs to their flat that evening to begin phoning around their friends to invite them. Harry and Ron showed up in no time at all, having just finished work, they took off their shoes and jackets and immediately headed for the sofa. Before long the TV was playing a muggle film Harry had spoken about before, The Goonies. Fred had watched it a few years ago when he took an interest in 80's cinema, although it still didn't compare to his favourite, Indiana Jones. Before long, Hermione showed up with Ginny in tow, early as usual. Ginny walked over and planted a kiss on Harry, jumping on the sofa next to him. Hermione, slightly more reserved, greeted Fred and George, before blushing as Ron kissed her cheek to greet her, while on his way to fetch her a drink.

"Oh, Daphne's coming by for dinner." George announced,

"Daphne?" Hermione asked, the name ringing a bell to her,

"Daphne Velps?" Ginny asked, getting up from her position on the sofa, untangling her limbs from Harrys. George nods in response, "Brilliant!" Ginny smiles, "I haven't seen her in ages, she was a riot at school."

"Her?" Fred asked, "She seems a bit all work and no play to me."

"Please..." Ginny laughs, "You've clearly never spoken to her after a bottle of wine. She's ace, oh I'm so glad she's coming."

As if by magic, right on time, the door knocks. Ginny scrambled over the back of the sofa, to open it. Daphne stood in a smart blouse and black flares, and the very same silly boots that Fred had taken such notice of.  
"Ginny?" Daphne exclaimed as Ginny flung her arms around the girl's neck,

"Mate, I am so glad to see you, it's been way too long." Ginny says in a strained voice, still squeezing Daphne tight,

"I've missed you! And I know, I've become a boring old woman... How's the quidditch going darling?"  
"Amazing! You'll have to come to a game!"

"I will, just let me know when.... I can't promise I'll know what's going on, but i'll try my best." Daphne offers,

"I'm so sorry I'm keeping you out here in the hallway, come in!" Ginny beckons, dragging Daphne in by the arm, she extends greetings to everyone.

"Hermione! Don't you look gorgeous," Daphne begins,

"You can talk!" Hermione gushed, hugging her old school pal, "Look at this outfit, now I'm certain they're paying you too much." she joked, admiring the girls clothing, holding Daphne's hand and reaching out her arm so Daphne could do a twirl.

"I wish they didn't keep you cooped up in those offices at the ministry, I could come visit you if you were on the ground floor like the boys.." Daphne pouts, referring to Hermione's desk job at the Ministry in the Department of Regulation.

"We'll go for lunch one of the days." Hermione decides, "I'll send you my itinerary." in her usual no-nonsense manner, receiving a curt nod from Daphne.

"As nice as it is to see you, what on earth are you doing here?" Ginny asked, after reclaiming her spot next to Harry.

"She's working with us." George replies on Daphne's behalf, "She's trying to shape us into proper gentlemen."

"Now I don't know if that's possible, but if anybody can do it, It's Daphne." Hermione smiles, unbeknownst to the group, Fred was leaning against the kitchen counter, disappointedly watching all of his friends get on well with her.

"Well then..." Fred began, looking toward the group, "Shall we order something in?"

\---

The group settled on a chinese takeaway, and ordered enough to feed a small army. While they waited for it to arrive, Daphne pulled out the ink samples she had intended to show George earlier that day.

"Fred, you can see what you think." She offered, flicking through some of the pages of various colours. "I like this red." She continued, pointing a pink fingernail at a rich shade of scarlet. Fred extended his hand to point at a more ruby toned shade, as he did, he brushed Daphne's extended hand, and she recoiled at his touch. Her hand was cold but somehow his skin felt even hotter after she touched it. He tried to ignore this distraction as he mumbled something about how that colour would look better. George agreed, and Daphne wrote the name of it down in a notepad next to her. The twins picked out the rest of the ink they wanted, with a little input from their friends around the table.

"That wasn't so bad was it." Daphne teased, as she and Fred's gaze met across the group.

"I suppose not." He admitted reluctantly, as he helped her pile up the books of samples. Daphne slotted them carefully back into her bag, which looked far too heavy for a girl of her size to be lugging around. Much to the hungry group's delight, the doorbell rang, with their food.

After eating, the group sat around the living room catching up with each other. Ginny was sat beside Daphne on the floor, with Harry behind her on the sofa, and every so often, absentmindedly, she'd place a comforting hand against his shin. The girls were laughing, discussing memories from their time at school, with Hermione managing, between giggles to say, "I'm shocked that you're even single!, I always thought you and Draco Malfoy were an item..."

"Everyone says that." Daphne grumbles, "But no, we were, and still are, just very good family friends. And you needn't be shocked that I'm single. My heart belongs to the job."

"So does mine, but I still find time to have a boyfriend." Hermione laughs,

"Oi!" Ron shouts, holding out his hands to gesture his offence and confusion,

"Sorry darling, you know what I mean.... Point is, Daph, a girl like you should not be single!" she continues, as Ron wordlessly accepts her explanation.

"I'm happy, Hermione! Honest." Daphne says resolutely, slightly offended that Hermione thought she would be actively seeking love in the first place.

"I just can't believe you've never got with Draco, not even snogged?" Ginny asked, perplexed,

"Not even snogge-'' Daphne began, until a memory resurfaced, causing her cheeks to flush pink, "Well there was that one game of spin the bottle at that party in our 5th year.... You were there I think Gin?" she asked, covering her face as she giggled in embarrassment.

"Oh god, I was.... Weren't you sick after?"

"We don't speak of it..." Daphne says, putting her hand over her face in embarrassment, as the girls spin into fits of giggles.

"I always used to be confused as to why a cool girl was so close with such a rat..." Ron said, widening his eyes as he realised just how candid he'd been about his feelings about Draco. To his relief Daphne just smiled knowingly, shrugging one shoulder as if to show her indifference,

"Look, I know you lot didn't like him... But he's different now I promise, I've known him since we were babies and he was just... In a bad place with not many choices." Daphne begins to defend him, "Don't get me wrong, he's a complete arsehole... But I do love him." earning nods which she supposed meant 'fair enough', from the people around her.

"He was a bit gorgeous though." Ginny stated, poking her elbow into Daphne's ribs, "Not my type of course..." she continued, after receiving a glare from Harry.

"He's a darling, got a lovely girlfriend now too. Bit of a snob but, she'll do..." Daphne explained, receiving a snort from Fred. Daphne looked up at him, tilting her head to one side and asking,

"Sorry, something you wanted to say, Fred?" in a curt voice. His snarky comment had snapped her away from the giggling fit she was sharing with the girls beside her, sick of the constant berating, she awaited his reply.

"Nothing. Just funny." He stated, matter of factly. The group settled into an awkward silence, Hermione and Ginny no longer laughing about Ginny calling Draco gorgeous. The boys held their tongue, having seen Fred's attitude towards Daphne beforehand, they thought it best to not get involved.

"What is?" Daphne asked,

"You, calling someone a snob." Fred mocked, emphasising the word as if she was something distasteful, the unnecessary malice of his words made Daphne wish she could shout something back at him. Although Daphne was well aware she was no longer in the office, and felt obliged to keep her mouth shut. In an attempt to avoid any awkwardness for the rest of the group, she held back the cutting reply she would have ordinarily given, and just climbed to her feet.

"Oh... Well, I. I suppose I better get going. It was lovely to see you all, thank you for having me. Stay in touch..." She said, aiming that last part at the girls, who looked shocked at Fred's comment. Without further ado, Daphne left, grabbing her coat and bag on the way out.

"What the hell, Fred?" Ginny asked, with a voice laced with confusion and anger

"What the hell is your problem?" George asked once again, getting quite sick of Fred's attitude.

"She was sitting there going on about Malfoy, of all people... We hate him, why do we want to be friends with people who associate with people like that." Fred explained, gesturing his hand out as if this were obvious.

"You're pathetic. We were having a laugh." Ginny says,

"I don't know why you've made it your mission to have a problem with her." George commented, fed up with his brother's attitude. Receiving a nod from Ginny in agreement,

"You can't blame her for being rude to you when you're acted cold to her since the start, what gives?" George continues, standing up because it felt like too serious a conversation to have sat down.

"Fred... That was abominably rude." Hermione lectured. Having been unaware of any of the prior tensions that the boys already had seen first hand, Fred's attack on Daphne seemed callous and unfair.

"I don't know why all of you like her so much." Fred grumbles, "Am I The only one who thinks she's stuck up?"

"She is stuck up, but she's an amazing person... If you didn't hold grudges the way you do, and get over whatever reason it is you have to be so against her, you'd probably see that." Ginny retorts, and Fred stared back at her, unable to come up with any kind of response. "Harry, I think we should go." she decides, realising her brother was in one of his strops, and couldn't be reasoned with.


	5. The Photo Booth

The bar was alive with people enjoying their evenings. George, Fred, Harry, and Ron were meeting up on Friday night to enjoy some drinks after work. 

Harry was almost immediately noticed by a very drunk blonde at the bar, who sauntered over, spilling half her drink in the process. The boys cringed internally as they all witnessed what they thought could only be an attempt at flirtation. Harry, flattered, but obviously uninterested asked the bartender if he would fetch her some water. 

The group found a booth and sat down hastily, lucky to find a table at such a busy time. Ron offered to head to the bar to get them some drinks, but after 10 minutes, the boys wonder where on earth he had gotten to. They craned their necks trying to look toward the bar, only to see him chatting enthusiastically to two girls. They both seemed to be laughing heartily at whatever Ron was saying. Fred's felt a strange sensation in the pit of his stomach as he realised just who it was Ron was currently talking to. Daphne. He would recognise that haughty hair flick anywhere, nobody else in the whole of Diagon Alley had the audacity that she did. With that, she turned around, as Ron pointed toward the boys on their table, Daphne waved excitedly, flashing them a smile. Fred silently groaned as Ron beckoned them to follow him back to the table.

"Hello Daphne!" George greeted, pulling up an extra chair as the two girls approached.

"Hello everyone, this is Charlotte... My flatmate." She greets, moving slightly so the lads could see her friend, Charlotte's full lips smiled as she offered a wave to all of them. "Charlotte, this is Harry, George.. And Fred."

"Is this the one that-?" Charlotte begins, receiving an aggressive shush from her friend,

"No." Daphne cuts her off, and Fred's mind begins tripping over itself thinking of the possibilities of things she might have said. The one that what?

"Join us..." Harry offers, gesturing toward the chair. Charlotte sat herself down in it happily, and Daphne hovered awkwardly looking around for an extra chair to pull up to the booth. George stood up, letting her slide in between him and Ron. She shuffled into the seat, only to end up face to face with Fred when she looked up. Great, she thought, looking forward to another night of torment from the boy who seemed to have it in for her.

"So what are you doing here tonight?" George asks the duo, Daphne smooths out her dress, before answering,

"We're out on the town, same as you." Daphne replies, sipping her drink.

"Didn't know you knew how to have fun..." Fred mocks, taking a sip from his pint. Charlotte scoffs in response,

"You must be joking, you haven't seen half of it..." she explains, with a smirk toward her friend.

"So Charlotte, what do you do?" George asked, suddenly perking up at the arrival of the attractive girl.

"I write the film review column in The Daily Prophet.. Sometimes other bits here and there too, but mostly films."

"It all sounds very glamorous." George coos, as Ron suppresses an eye roll, upon realising his brother was attempting to flirt.

"It's not all that exciting. They just send me to the cinema every week."

"Not true at all, she bagged us two tickets to Sundance last year." Daphne disagreed, bragging proudly about her friend.

A few drinks, and a few ill-advised shots later the group were roaring with laughter. Giggling as a girl approached the table, only to drop her number down without a word, and running back off toward her friends.

"We ought to go give her a smack..." Charlotte began, shaking her head in annoyance,

"Huh?" Ron asked, confused.

"That girl had no idea if any of you were taken, we could easily have been your girlfriends. It's the principle." Daphne explained,

"You women will never cease to me amaze me..." Ron says, mystified,

"It does make sense." Fred agrees, "What if some lad was to come up and chat them up now?"

"That's not on..." Ron replied, as the theory suddenly pieced together in his head,

"See..." Fred ushered his brother, "Doesn't mean I won't go over and try my luck though." He smirked, glancing back at the girl who dropped her number down. The girls rolled their eyes, and George wondered if his brother would go through with it, deciding that he wouldn't do anything of the sort, not while Daphne was sitting there. Much to George's satisfaction, Fred stayed planted firmly in his seat, listening to Daphne talk animatedly about some muggle pop-star he'd never heard of.

A little later, the girls' eyes lit up with a mischievous glint as they noticed the photo booth on the other side of the bar. Ron chuckled as Daphne tried not to topple over as they ventured toward it. It was safe to say the two girls had enjoyed their night and took full advantage of happy hour. The pair spent ten minutes taking pictures, posing in all manner of stupid positions. The boys took this opportunity to speak about quidditch without receiving moans of boredom from the girls. Every so often, their cackles could be heard across the bar, as their drunken conversations got more and more outrageous. After a while, a young man in a navy suit approached them with a sleazy smile and an even sleazier look in his eye. Harry nudged George, nodding toward the photo booth. The boys cut short their conversation about the Montrose Magpies going up in the Quidditch league, to pay their full attention to this greasy-haired character who had approached their friends. Charlotte chattered away to him, as Daphne shut the curtain so she couldn't see him, without so much as a hello. Charlotte had a mocking vapid expression on her face, nodding very slowly as if she wasn't understanding anything the man was saying, but every so often would glance through a gap in the curtain to Daphne, giving her a 'get a load of this guy' look. Either the man was too drunk to notice, or too egotistical to care, and pulled back the curtain to try and put his moves on both of them. The man attempted to sit down on the chair Daphne was perched on, and appeared to be asking her for a picture. Charlotte looked on in bemusement at what could only have been a rejection of this proposition. At this point, the boys thought it was wise to intervene. It was late enough to call it a night, and the girls had definitely had enough, of both the alcohol and the predators. They walked up to the photo booth, and the man held his hand up without looking at them, saying "I'm with them, fellas." to which George scoffed, as Charlotte threw her arms around his shoulders,

"Hi babe... I missed you!" planting an innocent kiss on his lips, "This is my lovely boyfriend..." Charlotte said, blanking on his name after only meeting him that very evening,

"George." He answers, after dealing with the initial surprise, he was more than happy taking the role of the knight in shining armour. He put his arm around her shoulder in a protective manner.

"Is one of these your boyfriend too?" Nick asked Daphne, who was sat, leaning against the wall of the photo booth, not looking at him

"No, he hates me." she replied, her eyes glazed over looking at the screen which displayed the pictures she and Charlotte had been taking.

"He hates you?" Nick asked, turning around to look at Fred, whose guilty face painted him immediately as the person in question, "Now, now... That's no way to treat such a lovely lady." he chastised, reaching out to touch her arm, to which she swatted away with an uncoordinated attack.

"With all due respect..." Fred began, "It's time for you to leave, Nick." He replied, scrunching up his nose as he said Nick, as if his name left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Woah, Woah, Woah..." Nick responded, "If you're not her boyfriend, you can leave her with me."

"You're joking if you think I'd let that happen." Fred responded, his tone getting more aggressive with each syllable.

"Come on... She's completely out of it, I got here first." Nick replied with a wink, "You're coming home with me, aren't you babe?" He says, turning around to look at Daphne, who threw him a disgusted look. He followed this by reaching out to attempt to put his arm around her.

"Where did you get that idea from? I'm drunk. Not blind..." She responded cooly, and before he had time to react, a strong hand had grabbed him by the back of the neck, causing Nick to yelp. Nick scrambled to regain his balance after he was pushed swiftly away from Daphne. He turned around to see Fred's angry face and clenched fist ready to take the confrontation further.

"If you touch her I'll break your fucking neck." Fred spits, and Nick, seeing that it was four men, and two women who looked like they could throw a punch or two, against one, decided to concede, and held his hands up as he walked away.

Daphne stood up, looking at Fred confused, just like everyone else. Despite Nick having disappeared back into the darkness of the bar, George had not removed his grip from Charlotte and was too surprised by Fred's sudden display of chivalry to think about moving.

"Well...." Harry began, "One more drink for the road?" and the group agreed to one more before they all made their way home. Harry and Ron went to reclaim their table, and Charlotte fussed over Daphne, pulling her up from her seat and making sure she was okay. While the girls were distracted, George shot Fred a look, half confused, half impressed, before he followed them back to the table. Fred noticed the tray on the side of the booth was full of a stack of pictures that the girls had forgotten to take with them amidst the kerfuffle, so he returned to the table, quietly popping the pictures into Daphne's handbag. The group sat down at the table once again, none of them quite sure how to address Fred and Daphne after that incident. So they once again became enraptured in a game of snog, marry, kill, mostly involving their former Hogwarts professors.

After finishing off their pints, Harry and Ron said their goodbyes and departed, too drunk to apparate just yet, for fear of vomiting, they began to walk. Daphne stood up, announcing to her friend that she was tired and ready to go home, "or at least to go get some chips." she urged, but seeing that her friend was deep in conversation, with her hand slyly placed on George's thigh, Daphne thought it best to leave her flatmate to it. "Actually, I'm fine, you stay." she remedies, picking up her bag and coat.

"Don't be silly! We'll come with you."

"No way. Have a great night you guys. I'll be absolutely fine, I'll see you when you're home." Daphne insisted, placing a kiss on Charlotte's cheek, and popping her coat over her shoulders. "Bye George, Bye Fred. Get home safe." she uttered, before walking away, towards the exit. George and Charlotte continued their conversation, quite oblivious to everything else around them at this point. Fred looked up to see Daphne exhibiting her usual strut, and despite being a little wonky tonight, she still looked as determined as she did when she paced Diagon Alley on her way to work. As she walked toward the door, he saw Nick, who was now waiting at the bar, see her alone, and hurry toward the exit. Fred rushed to his feet, grabbing his jacket and uttering hurried goodbyes to his brother and Charlotte. The cold night air hit him as he walked out onto the street, just in time to see Nick shout "Daisy, sweetheart, you never said goodbye." as he followed close behind Daphne. With a few quick strides, Fred was caught up to him,

"It's Daphne, you complete dickhead. Do you remember what I said earlier or do I have to remind you?" Fred threatened, voice raised enough to echo around the empty cobbled streets, Nick's eyes widened, and he jumped at Fred's sudden appearance. "Fuck off." Fred finished, sending Nick sprinting in the opposite direction. After watching him scarper, Fred looked up at where Daphne stood shivering, slightly precariously stood with her heels balancing on the cobblestones.

"Are you alright?" Fred asked, unclenching his fists at the sight of her eyes. Fred was accustomed to the piercing blue eyes she often narrowed at him, which were full of fire and incited fear into those who dared disagree with her. Now, in the soft, orange light of the lanterns that lined the street, those dangerous eyes were like that of a scared little girl, Fred stepped closer, trying to understand how her usual dragon-like stare had turned to doe eyes right in front of him.

"Fine... Thank you." Daphne replies, she attempted to appear unbothered, but Fred could see the tremble in her legs, and the tears that had been welling along the waterline of those striking eyes.

"It's okay." He begins, taking another step towards her till they were as close as that day she tied his tie for him, all those weeks ago. "Let's get you home." and without any protest, Daphne nods.

"You didn't have to do all that." Daphne says, nervously pulling her coat sleeves around her hands to protect her from the cold,

"I did." Fred replied matter of factly. "My mother raised me right, for a start. He deserved more than what I did to him after what he said, the sicko. And second of all.... I know we clash and I give you a hard time, but that's my job... Nobody else can give you shit, I take full responsibility."

"Oh please. You'd have everyone ganging up on me if you could."

"Not true. As much as I hate to admit it, you're on the Weasley team now. And no scummy man in some trendy bar will be laying a finger on my least favourite business partner."

Daphne laughed, "Careful, don't be too nice to me, Fred."

"I can save my snide remarks till Monday, Velps." Fred says, as they reach Daphne's flat. Quite a distance from the main street, Fred nervously considered how many other times Daphne had attempted this journey alone.

"Thank you, Fred. Genuinely." Daphne acknowledges with gratitude, putting the keys in the door in front of them.

"It's no problem, Velps. I like any excuse to teach arseholes like that a lesson. Night."

"Goodnight." She smiles, sliding in the door and shutting it behind her. Fred looked at the door, painted, by Daphne, he assumed, in a bright emerald green colour. He smiled at the window above him, filled with plants and a rather large Jack-O-Lantern. The light clicked on, illuminating the room, Fred saw the curtain move, revealing Daphne who waved and smiled softly, before disappearing back into the flat. Fred began walking home, glancing back up at the window, just on the off chance she'd be there again, but she was not.


	6. Paint and Prejudice

The taste of paint wasn't pleasant, as Fred had found out that morning, as they had begun the arduous task of repainting the flat. After being flicked in the face with the brush by his brother, he now had a maroon splash on his freckled face. The flat was looking a little worse for wear these days, so the boys had decided it was time for a fresh lick of paint. George had gone to pick up some tubs of paint on his break yesterday, in time for them to spend the weekend decorating. They'd coaxed Harry, Ron, and Ginny into helping out by offering free booze and food.

"I have a confession to make..." George began, as his toned arms lifted an old dust sheet, covering their large sofa in one swoop.

"What?" Fred asks as he positioned a ladder by a bedroom door-frame, ready to paint a fresh layer of gloss across it.

"I may have invited Daphne along to help out." George said with a wince, awaiting his brother's reaction.

"Oh." Fred responds,

"Oh? No insults? No tantrum? Who are you and what have you done with Fred?" George laughed,

"If you're going to insist on inviting her everywhere. I'm just going to keep my mouth shut. Nothing I can do since you all clearly love her." Fred replied, pausing in consideration. He pulled up the hem of his t-shirt, wetting it slightly with his tongue, and using it to rub off the paint George had so kindly flicked on him. 

"Finally you're talking some sense." George smiled, patting his brother's shoulder happily, relieved that he wouldn't have to have constant arguments with his brother over his new friend. With that, the doorbell rang, George opened it to reveal Daphne in a sage green trouser suit. The twin at the door grimaced at the thought of any of the maroon coloured paint staining her ensemble. She smiled, rummaging in her bag and withdrawing a bottle of red wine.

"Hi darling, wasn't sure what you both drank so I went with red... I mean anybody who's anybody drinks red, white is for people who don't really like wine..." She trails off, walking into the apartment and opening her eyes wide in horror at the sight of the open tubs of paint.

"When you said you wanted help I assumed you meant my keen eye for interior design!" she exclaims, laughing as she stepped a heeled boot carefully over the dust sheet on the floor, approaching Fred on his ladder.

"Let me guess, you've never done a day of manual labour in your life." Fred mocks, as he paints a fresh coat of white glossy paint over the door frame of George's bedroom.

"It's none of your business to guess in the first place!" Daphne snaps in retaliation, before looking around and admitting, "Well he's right, you don't maintain nails like this doing stuff like that...'' She explains, admiring her intricately painted hands, which were adorned with tiny little daisies, she'd invented a spell back in her days at Hogwarts which ensured that any design on her fingertips would spring to life. This particular set of nails had minty green daisies, waving in a non-existent breeze. This little spell was what paid for her first year of rent back when she started her internship at Buckling and Wicks, after all the premium nail salons in London bought the spell from her. Fred scoffed in pride, as a tiny drip of the thick paint dripped down onto the dust sheet next to Daphne,

"Sorry." he almost sneers, receiving an eye roll from Daphne as she moves quickly out of the way, fearing it was an intentional droplet and there would be more where that came from.

"Of course, you don't have to help us paint, Daph, and you are right, we'd be lost without your visionary use of colours. We want this place looking like the cover of one of your best novels."

"Speak for yourself..." Fred muttered, but loud enough for the others to hear.

"I don't mind helping!" Daphne reassured, "I just need... something else to wear."

"That can be arranged." George offered, as he ventured to Fred's room,

"Oi!" Fred shouted at his brother,

"You're in the way of my door, Freddie. I don't want to disturb the master at work." George shouts from Fred's bedroom, and the sound of rummaging can be heard, much to Fred's annoyance. George returns with an old polo shirt, ripped a little at the sleeve, which had his initials embroidered on the chest, presumably Molly's handiwork. "You can change in there too," George says, ushering her into Fred's bedroom, Fred goes to protest but before he could, George had shut the door behind Daphne.

"You're unbelievable." Fred once again, mutters, but just loud enough for George to hear and chuckle at. Meanwhile, behind the closed door, Daphne carefully removed her boots, then suit and blouse, and folded them neatly onto Fred's hastily made bed. In just her underwear, she noted how cold the room was compared to the main living space, so quickly slid the large shirt over her head. It was giant on her, falling to almost her knees. She was surprised at how tidy Fred's room looked in comparison to what she'd imagined, before she stopped herself, shaking her head and wondering why on earth she had imagined Fred's room in the first place. There was a desk near the window and she approached to take a peek at what Mr Grumpy got up to when he wasn't berating her. She leafed through the first few pages, which were receipts for shop orders, a letter from his mother. She didn't allow herself to pry into those, she just wanted an idea of what he was actually like underneath the moodiness. Under the letter to his mother, she saw a familiar image, Daphne glanced over her shoulder to make sure nobody was there, and pulled the corner of the image, revealing it. Her heart rate quickened as she recognised it as the photos from the photo booth in the bar last weekend. The four photographs, in black and white, were of Daphne by herself, blowing kisses at the camera, smiling, then one of her head thrown back laughing at something Charlotte was saying through the curtain. She reminded herself to breathe again as she tucked the photograph back under the pages, hastily walking back out into the main room in her new outfit.

What a sicko, Daphne thought to herself, What kind of weirdo dislikes someone so much that they keep a picture of them. Bet he's saving it for his dartboard. She hypothesised, looking up at Fred who was staring intently at the wood he was painting.

Fred couldn't look at her. He could feel her gaze on him as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his palms were hot holding the wooden handle of the brush and he breathed a sigh of relief when he felt her gaze move on and saw her move toward the other empty wall out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't sure what it was about her that boiled his blood in the way it did. The prickle of annoyance began even at the sound of her name, he felt as though he was a student in school again, waiting to be chastised by a teacher. He had begun to associate her with feeling like he was going to get into trouble. Daphne caused a knot of nerves in his stomach that had previously only ever been triggered by the anticipation of impending doom after a particularly wayward or volatile prank. Although after a prank, Fred felt thrilled, after interacting with Daphne, he was only left with a headache, and still couldn't wrap his head around how nobody else, not even George, experienced this. He dared to take a glance at her, watching as she effortlessly swept her long hair up into a ponytail, listening intently to George as he told her where everything was. George looked up at his brother, breaking his stare toward Daphne. Fred continued painting the doorframe and tried to ignore her as best he could.

Ginny arrived via the floo network shortly after, wearing what appeared to be one of Harry's old t-shirts.

"Hi gorgeous!" Daphne calls from where she sat, carefully painting the edges of the skirting board with a small brush.

"Hi Daphne.." Ginny greeted cheerily, walking over to her, noticing what she was wearing and giving her a funny look. "Nice outfit."

"I know, Fred was kind enough to let me wear one of his shirts, so I didn't ruin my suit."

"Uncharacteristically nice." Ginny muttered, "If it smells anything like him then god help you.." She continued, louder this time to Fred could hear her dig. He rolled his eyes and watched as Daphne lifted the shirt to her face to sniff the fabric, making his cheeks flush a little bit pink,

"Smells nice actually." she decided

"Don't sound so surprised." Fred scoffed.

\---

A little while later Harry and Ron had shown up and were getting to work moving furniture from the yet-to-be painted walls so they could reach them. Fred had moved on from his place near George's door, having almost reached the windows, where Daphne was painting the wood of the windowsill.

Daphne took a step back, admiring their handiwork. "Have you ever thought about doing a wall in wallpaper? Rather than just paint."

"If we wanted interior design advice, we would have asked." Fred replied, continuing to paint as he dismissed her idea.

"It would look nice I reckon, Daphne." Ron replied, trying to ease the awkwardness in the air left after Fred's comment. Daphne, ignoring Fred, turned to Ron and smiled,

"I think so too... It would make the place look a bit more, grown-up." she decides, sitting back down to continue where she was painting.

"We're grown up enough, without any wallpaper." Fred replied, receiving an unconvinced scoff from Daphne.

"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it." Daphne giggles and Fred gets even closer to her, reaching the skirting board underneath the window Daphne was painting at.

"You're in my way."

"It appears I am." Daphne replies, not even looking at him as she responded.

"Fine." Fred responds, without asking her to move, he continues painting as he gets closer to her, bumping into her legs. "Can you move?" Fred asked, exasperated

"Can you ask nicely?" Daphne responded, pausing what she was doing to look at him. As she turned to look toward him, a drop of paint from his brush fell onto her bare leg. "Look what you've bloody done now. Why couldn't you just say excuse me?"

"Grow up, Velps. It's a bit of paint." Fred says in exasperation, standing up to address the girl.

"No, Fred. It's not just a bit of paint. It's a bit of paint and constant rudeness, constant berating and giving me absolutely no respect when I've done fuck all wrong!" She explodes, with everyone turning to stare as her volume and anger increased. To emphasise her last point she raised her arm which held the paintbrush and flicked some paint onto Fred with hostility.

"Are you joking?" Fred asked, looking down at the white paint which had sprayed onto his torso. "What do you expect except hostility? You walk around my house like you own the place! You think you can throw money at everything to solve a problem! Daphne Velps, You are a snob." He responds with just as much vehemence and irritation, flicking his arm out in a move similar to Daphne's, leaving her shirt covered in droplets of white paint.

"Regardless of whether I'm a snob or not, I demand some basic politeness. I'd ask if you were raised in a barn, but it seems your siblings turned out fine, so what went wrong with you." She spat, getting crueler with her words. "And jokes on you, this is your top."

Fred was unable to retort to these words, the personal attack on his character had rendered him speechless, which for Fred, was highly unusual. Fred nodded, he smirked, and wordlessly dipped his brush into the paint calmly, before swiftly stepping forward and leaving a great big stripe of it through Daphne's hair. She screamed, touching her head and looking at her paint-covered hand in shock. "Fuck. You." She shrieked, lunging forward at him, smearing his face with her messy hand, leaving a white handprint across his left cheek. Before Fred could retaliate, Ginny was dragging Daphne by the arm away from her brother, and George and Ron took Fred to the other side of the room.

"We could be sensible about this..." George pondered, before catching Ginny's gaze and seeing her smirk with a glimmer of a cunning plan in her eyes. Fred moved to try and get out of their grasp, but George had him held tight. Ginny pointed towards the broom closet, which currently stood empty, awaiting a fresh coat of paint. George and Ron looked at each other, catching on to Ginny's idea, and as Fred tried to struggle again, they shoved him firmly into the small closet. Ginny followed suit, pushing Daphne, who was writhing to get out of Ginny's grasp, into the same room. Once the door was shut, Ginny locked the door with her wand, shouting through the wooden door,

"You can come out when you can learn to behave yourselves... and Daphne, I'm on your side, don't worry."

"If you were on my side, you wouldn't leave me in here with this imbecile." Daphne shouted back, banging the door and rattling the handle as she tried to escape.

"It's no holiday for me either, Princess." They hear Fred say to her.

"I say we have a walk and get a drink..." George says to others, "Leave them to work it out." just loud enough for Fred and Daphne to hear him. The rest of the group nods, grabbing their jackets and leaving the flat.

Daphne huffs and crosses her arms in an irritated manner.

"They'll be back, won't they?" Daphne asked, "What if I need a wee?"

"Hold it." Fred answered, leaning back against the wall. Daphne shuffled herself and leaned against the opposite wall. The pair exchanged glares before returning their gazes to the floor.

"I can't believe you flicked paint on me." Daphne scoffed, in disbelief

"You flicked paint on me."

"You started it."

"Did not." He replied, like a child. Daphne, unwilling to entertain the ridiculous argument any longer, left the remark unanswered. They sat in uncomfortable silence for what felt to Daphne like hours. Fred sat in indignant silence, with his long, rather cramped, legs tapping the wall in front of him. All he'd smelled for the last few hours was the chemical smell of paint but was now getting that familiar floral scent of Daphne's perfume, while she sat there tapping her fingers absentmindedly, in a rather frustrated manner.

After a while, Daphne couldn't take the annoyance that was building within her. "I'd like to remind you that you're 24 years old... Since you seem to have forgotten."

"You're 22... You know you can live a little, instead of acting like a bitter, stubborn old woman." he retorted,

"You don't even know me." Daphne replied, shaking her head in bemusement.

"I know enough... and far more than I'd like to."

"You're pathetic."

"And you're a bitch." Fred replied with a sarcastic smile

"Have the paint fumes gone to your head or something? Why on earth are you so rude to me?" she exclaimed,

"As if you weren't rude to me first?"

"Rude to you first? The first time we ever met I bought you a bloody tie!"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to lord that over me..." Fred rolled his eyes,

"Lord it over you?" Daphne asked, looking at him incredulously, "Are you actually having a laugh, Fred. All I ask is for a little basic kindness... and you can't even manage that!" She scolds, getting up so that she was kneeling, and facing Fred, in order to look directly at him while she reprimanded him.

"I've shown you plenty of basic kindness." He spoke dryly,

"If that's what you think is basic kindness, I worry for every single friend or lover you've ever had."

"There you go, using words like that... 'Lover'. Bloody hell Wordsworth. This is exactly the problem, you analyse things too deeply. You make things more intense than they need to be."

"That's why you don't like me? Because I have a good vocabulary.... Right."

"It's not that... " Fred replies in frustration, sitting up so he is facing her, still much taller than her despite being on his knees.

"What is it then?" she asked, and Fred's usually quick mouth is unable to come up with anything, and is left gawping as he tried to come up with a reasonable excuse. "That's what I thought...." She said, noticing how close they'd become once he'd kneeled to meet her gaze. "Listen. We clearly aren't going to be best friends. But can you at least treat me with some civility?"

"Friends... Yeah. Doubtful." Fred responded, in a faraway voice, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. The baby hairs on the back of Daphne's neck prickled under the intensity of his eyes in such close proximity. She'd never seen them this close before, on account of him being over a foot taller than her. His eyes had little flecks of green and gold in them, surrounding his pupil, and surprisingly dark lashes, considering his hair colour. At this distance, Daphne could see the freckles on his face, fading now, she imagined how they must look during the warmer months. Annoyingly handsome, she thought as they both refused to look away. Strange, nobody who hates me has ever looked at me like this before, was all that ran through her head as she inspected the tiny triangle-shaped scar just above his right eyebrow. Without warning, Fred lifted his hand and put his palm softly to her cheek. Daphne's eyes widened in bewilderment as she wondered what he was doing. His thumb and it's slightly rough skin brushed against her cheek tenderly.

"You've got... paint." he explained, as an answer to the silent question Daphne posed with her confused expression. He swiped his thumb softly down her chin, resting it on her bottom lip for a second. "I am sorry... about your hair." he offered, his fingers just slightly resting on her jawline and neck.

"Thanks." She replied softly, raising her hand hesitantly to his. Her fingers just grazed the back of his hand. Fred placed his hand flat against her neck, feeling her pulse beating fast beneath his fingers. He felt the stray hairs that had fallen out of her ponytail, as his fingers reached the back of her neck. Her eyes had lost the look of confusion they once held, leaving only a merciful gaze, which bore into him. There was a gentleness in her demeanor that he'd never seen before. It felt as though his arm was moving on its own, something about the cold touch of her hand, and the warmth of her neck made him involuntarily pull her in.

BANG.

Ginny's loud knock on the door of the closet broke them apart, and the daylight streamed in as George opened the door again.

"Well, how are we both doing?" Harry asked, laughing, with a to-go cup of coffee in his hand.

The pair scrambled from their position on the floor, Fred holding out a hand for Daphne to pull herself up with.

"Fine." Fred responded, hoping his brother hadn't noticed quite how compromising the position they were found in was.

"I really should get this paint washed out of my hair." Daphne mused, touching the now dry patch of paint which clung to her head, and her grimace showed that she was mourning her usually luscious long hair.

"Oh right, I'll see you soon then.." George smiled, aware that something was off.

Ginny rushed out of the room, quickly returning with Daphne's suit. Daphne went to grab it from her, before wincing, stopping herself, after seeing how her hands were covered in paint. She pulled out her wand, casting an incantation, sending the pile of clothes off, presumably home. Ginny pulled her in for a hug, not caring about how messy she was.

"See you doll..." Daphne smiled, turning around and offering goodbyes to all of the boys, nodding curtly at Fred, who said nothing. With that, she apparated away.


	7. Lost Property

George crept through the flat in the early hours of the morning, after carefully locking the door behind him, he tiptoed to his room, in an attempt not to wake his brother.

"Well, well, well...." The voice of Fred sounded out from the darkness, just before the lights flicked on. Fred stood at the light switch, leaning against the doorframe of his room with a knowing glint in his eye, "Date went well I take it?"

"You could say that..." George smiled, with a small blush creeping across his already flushed cheeks. George had initially planned to ask Charlotte Albarn to accompany him to the cinema, knowing she loved films. Fred, however, reminded him that as she worked for the Daily Prophet, writing the film reviews, this may be somewhat of a busman's holiday. So, George had asked her to dinner. They'd enjoyed the night so much that they had ended up at a swanky cocktail bar talking until it closed.

"7 am... Didn't stop to cuddle?" Fred teased, sipping on the cup of tea he'd made himself while waiting for his brother. George's blush intensified, causing him to look down sheepishly.

"She had to get up for work..." George confessed,

"On a Saturday?"

"She's got to head up to Manchester today, she's writing an article on a film festival up there this weekend."

"Was the harpy in?" Fred asked,

"If by the harpy, you mean Daphne, who has done nothing to earn that name... No, she was out..."

"Out? Where could she possibly be spending the night? I thought she didn't have a boyfriend." Fred asked, brows furrowed in a mix of what seemed to George like confusion and agitation.

"Fred... It's too early for these kinds of questions. I believe she was with her parents for the evening..." George explained, raising his eyebrow at Fred's interest in the whereabouts of a girl he claimed to dislike so much.

"Oh... Well. Where's your coat mate?" Fred asked, changing the subject when he realised George was not wearing the jacket he left with last night. "Missing a belt too I see... Very nice." he continued, with a wink.

"Shit..." George mumbled, "Charlotte borrowed it while we were walking home.."

"No offence mate but I think your belt would be a bit big for her to borrow." Fred deadpanned, receiving an unamused look from his brother. "I'll let you get to bed, you sly dog..." Fred smiled, as his very tired looking brother trudged into his bedroom.

"Night!" George called, sounding fatigued, but very pleased with himself.

Later on that afternoon, Fred was sitting at his desk, sealing some envelopes to send out to some of their product manufacturers, just tying up loose ends before the Christmas line hit the shelves.

"I'm heading to the post-office mate, do you want me to pop in the girls' flat to grab your clothes on the way back?" Fred shouted out to his brother, as he picked up the pile of letters.

"I've just got off the phone with Charlotte actually, she said there's a key hidden on top of the doorframe... If you wouldn't mind." George replies from the sofa, looking up as Fred left his bedroom,

"No problem, thought I'd give Delta a break today, and we've got a few things to send off before the Christmas stuff comes in." Fred explained, referring to their tawny owl, Delta, who was currently off delivering a letter to their mother and father at the Burrow. "I'll be back in about an hour." he said as he walked out of the front door with a pile of letters in his hands.

The Owl Post Office in London was a pleasant building, despite the smell. The tall walls towered above Fred, with a large aviary on top, so high up you could barely see it from the ground. He walked in, spoke to a wizard behind a glass screen and paid him, handing over the letters to be sent off.

After his chore was done, he set off toward Daphne and Charlotte's flat, it was quite a walk from the main street, but Fred enjoyed walking the quieter part of town. He strolled leisurely along the streets. Around this area, most of the streets were lined with expensive townhouses and old, tall trees, which were almost all completely bare due to the cold nipping away their leaves. As he neared the girls' place he understood why they had chosen to live in the quieter part of town, the streets were much quieter than Diagon Alley ever was, and Fred could actually hear the birds singing instead of the hubbub of the shoppers he was used to. 

He neared the flat, running his hand along the top of the door with ease, finding the spare key. Fred laughed to himself, wondering how the two short women who resided there ever hoped to reach the spare key. He turned the key in the lock, letting himself in. In front of him, was a wooden stairway, leading up to their front door. He swiped the doorframe once again, picking up another spare key which was hidden way out of reach of the girls who would actually need it. Fred let himself in, pushing open the door to behold the flat. 

The walls were painted a rich purple colour, and the walls were adorned with pictures and posters of all shapes and sizes. Posters of films he'd never heard of and paintings of woodland landscapes were a running theme, he noticed. Knowing how flamboyant Daphne could be, Fred was unsurprised at the eclectic appearance of the room. Piles of books were scattered around, due to the bookshelf looking full to the brim, boasting classic titles, and some more frivolous looking stuff. Fred smelled a sweet floral scent, like incense burning, as he ran his hand along the back of the purple velvet sofa in front of him. He jumped at the sound of a voice in the flat behind him, from one of the bedrooms he heard singing. It was what he presumed to be a muggle song, one he'd never heard before

"Now you hang from my lips... Like the Gardens of Babylon" The silvery voice travelled through the flat from the back room, "With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con..."

Fred panicked, he didn't realise anybody would be home. But before he could do anything about it, Daphne was walking through to the kitchen. She let out a yelp in fear when she saw Fred standing in her living room, jumping out of her skin, which delighted Fred, probably more than it should have.

"Lovely singing..." he teased, raising an eyebrow at her appearance. A navy robe covered her body, the long silky material fell just to her calf. Her hair was carefully rolled up into curlers, which sat perfectly on her head. Fred wasn't sure what it was, but her shocked face had a couple of white dots on it, clearly some kind of face cream or concoction.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Daphne exclaimed, hand firmly pressed against her heart to try and recover from the shock of seeing him.

"Here to pick up loverboys lost property... I didn't think anybody would be in."

"Well, I am! You could have knocked!" She lectured,

"Charlotte told me to use the spare key, I was told you'd be at your parents..."

"I came home."

"Clearly." He looked her up and down. One leg was exposed from her nightgown, revealing an anklet. Her face didn't look much different than normal, Fred considered, upon realising she wasn't wearing any makeup. She looked younger, he liked her face like this. It felt strangely intimate, seeing her like this, she looked softer somehow. Fred had only ever seen her in a carefully constructed outfit, adorned in jewellery and a face of make-up. Without her trinkets and glad-rags, she looked almost pleasant, like she might not snap your head off for refuting her opinion on Dickens. Daphne felt his gaze on her, she ordinarily wouldn't care about anyone seeing her like this, but something about the fact it was Fred made her a little nervous, causing her to fidget in her gown, trying to cover any exposed skin. "Getting ready for a ball?" he asked,

"Very funny.." She replied, placing a hand tentatively on the curlers in her hair.

"No, it's... Nice."

"Nice?"

"You... Like this. I mean when you don't.. Wear those stupid outfits and silly shoes. And your face," he expressed, unusually stumbling over his words. Charm came naturally to Fred, so being without it made him unusually nervous.

"My face?"

"Yeah."

"You're taking the piss out of me..." Daphne said, brushing off his remarks.

"No. It's nice. Pretty." he said, decidedly, to which Daphne gave a quizzical look, "You need to learn how to take a compliment, Velps."

Daphne held her retort, instead offering Fred a smile. "I have his stuff. Follow me," she said with a nod towards the doors at the back of the hallway. She walked into her room and Fred followed behind. A brocade patterned wallpaper adorned the walls, a cassette tape played music quietly, and incense smoke floated around. Fred smelled the spiced smell of the smoke and was also met with the usual sweet smell of Daphne, all around him. Not one, but three books were piled on her bedside table with bookmarks poking out of their pages. Fred glanced over a calendar that hung from the wall, full of social engagements written in tiny print to fit in the boxes. A door led to a quaint little en-suite, painted a pale shade of sage green.

"I got the en-suite room in our flat too..." Fred says as he looks back at Daphne after surveying the room.

"I couldn't cope without one."

"Spoiled brat." Fred teased, making it clear by his facial expression that he was joking, "Try growing up in a house with 6 other siblings."

"Six?"

"I thought you knew?"

"I knew there were four of you... Didn't realise there were extras."

"Plus mom and dad."

"I bet that was... Chaotic."

"To say the least..." Fred smiles, picking up a clear coloured crystal from the surface of Daphne's desk and fiddling around with it in his hands, "And very loud.... Let me guess, only child?"

"What gave it away?" Daphne smirked,

"Only your entire personality."

"So do you have any sexy older brothers?"

"I personally wouldn't call them sexy... But I do have older brothers." he says, as Daphne raises her eyebrows in a mocking flirtatious manner.

"Bill's married, but Percy's right up your street... Works for the ministry, stuffy, boring, bit of a goody-two-shoes."

"And you think that's what I go for?" Daphne asked,

"If I had to guess." He poses, as she rolls her eyes, "enlighten me then..." he continues, "What is your type?" he asks, looking up from the crystal he was playing with to pay attention to her answer.

"Clever."

"Never, I think you'd get bored of someone who thought they were as clever as you."

"Like you?"

"Velps, you know I hate to inflate your ego like this, but you're a bit of a genius." he sighed.

"So are you."

"Now you're taking the piss."

"I'm not. I've never known anybody think like you do. As much as I hate to inflate your ego like this, you're a bit of a visionary." Daphne says, smoothing her curler filled hair in the mirror.

"You mean it?" Fred asked, still dubious,

"I wouldn't be working with you if I didn't." she responds, matter of factly. She picks up a pile of George's clothes, folded neatly, and places them in a paper shopping bag from some boutique. She hands the bag to Fred, and he takes it with a smile.

"That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me." He replies, genuinely taken aback by her sweet reply.

"Don't expect any more where that came from." She teases,

"I won't, don't worry." Fred replies, once again gazing around her room, eyes falling on a rack holding various pairs of those silly little boots she always wore. "I have a theory."

"Go on."

"Those little boots make you evil."

Daphne scoffed at his remark,

"I'm serious. You're much nicer like this. And those boots are the common denominator."

"Have you thought that you may be the common denominator?"

"Well I broke into your house today and you've let me get away with it unharmed, that's not the Daphne I know and lo-" Fred trailed off, stopping himself, "Loathe. Know and loathe."

"Maybe I'm feeling very generous today." Daphne remarked, while Fred looked at her bathroom door, and noticed that she had pinned up the photobooth pictures from the other night. Daphne caught his gaze staring at them, "I love photo booths." she comments, remembering the picture of her that was on Fred's desk. Which she had written off as entirely accidental, he'd probably even thrown it away by now, she thought.

"I can see that." he smiled.

"Right, you. I must start getting ready for dinner tonight." Daphne shooed, ushering Fred out of the bedroom, making sure he had George's things with him.

"Hot date?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Daphne mocked,

"I would." Fred stated plainly,

"Well. No. Meeting a man about a dog. And by that I mean I have a business dinner."

"A young girl such as yourself really shouldn't be spending Saturday night having dinner with what I assume will be some stuffy old businessmen."

"The issue is, Fred. I'd really like them to hire me."

"Hire you? I thought you loved your job."

"I do! This is just... Something else I love."

"Spill."

"I don't want to jinx it! If it goes well I'll tell you all about it... but until then." Daphne continued, and acted-out locking her lips up and turning the key.

"Speaking of Saturday nights.... I'm sure you're aware that next weekend is Halloween. Party at ours. You should come." Fred says as he stands in the doorway, ready to leave

"You're inviting me?

"Well, sort of. I know George would want you there."

"So you don't want me there?" she asked, half-joking, half-serious.

"I'm serious about you being too young to be spending Saturday night at a business dinner. This party can be your opportunity to live a little!"

"I live plenty."

"Somehow I doubt that. Otherwise, you wouldn't be having dinner with your parents and future employers on the weekend, and you'd be out with a fella." Fred said nonchalantly, but the words cut Daphne deeply.

"Well... I, I'll see you soon, Fred." Daphne replied, mortified by Fred's comment.

"Take care, Velps." Fred said, and she shut the door on him. She walked back into her room, looking at all the formal wear in her wardrobe, to pick out an outfit for the evening.

What does he know about dates? She thought,

"I bet he doesn't have a date tonight..." she spoke aloud to herself, furrowing her brow in frustration as his comments played on repeat in her head.

Meanwhile, Fred strolled down the street, unaware of the chagrined state Daphne was now in her bedroom, trying to work out exactly when her last date was. Fred smiled as he clutched the bag of clothes, walking home, wondering how proud George would be that he swallowed his pride and invited Daphne to their soiree.


	8. Marie and Ted's Excellent Adventure

The sound of music blared through the flat as friends new and old were dancing, talking, and making merry in Fred and George's bachelor pad. Daphne approached the stairwell, smoothing out her skirt nervously as she heard the beat of the music bump through the walls. She took one last look down at her outfit, a brocade corset clung to her body, with a matching blue mini skirt to match. Her hair was swept into an ornate updo, temporarily enchanted to look white, just for the occasion. She wasn't sure what was making the butterflies in her stomach flutter like this, but she just had a feeling that something was going to happen.

"You look amazing!" Ginny exclaimed, after Daphne walked in, drunkenly lolloping over to her friend, in what appeared to be a half-hearted attempt at a Mario costume, made evident by Harry's rather accurate Luigi one, who was standing with Ron near the window. "Who are you again?" 

"Thank you!" Daphne laughed as Ginny twirled her finger around one of Daphne's white tendrils. "I'm Marie Antoinette.... Where's your hat?" she asked, noticing what Ginny's costume was lacking.

"Sick in it earlier." Ginny confessed

"You're disgusting." Daphne smiled,

"I'm much better now!" Ginny assured, taking a sip from the can she was holding.

"I can see that'' Daphne replied, "I'm going to go pour a drink." wiggling the bottle of red wine she held and turning around to make her way to the kitchen. The room was full of people she didn't really know, or vaguely remembered from Hogwarts. Seeing Fred standing in the kitchen was an unusual relief to her.

"Velps." He acknowledges, eyes scanning her outfit. "Very you." he notes. 

Daphne took a look at his outfit and glanced across the room to George's outfit to confirm her suspicions that they were dressed as Bill and Ted.

"Ted..." She replied, looking him up and down to see him in black shorts, a white t-shirt and black waistcoat. "I'd say it was very you, but I think Keanu Reeves would be nicer to me."

Fred chuckled, handing her an empty wine glass. He gently took the bottle of wine from Daphne's grasp, feeling how cold her hands were as their fingers brushed.

"Are you going to run around shouting 'off with their heads!' at people all night?" Fred asked, pouring the wine into the glass.

"Actually that's the queen from Alice in Wonderland, I think you'll find Marie Antoinette was the one with her head chopped off." She educated, taking the glass from his hands. "Cheers." she said, clinking the glass against Fred's can of beer.

"Cheers." He replied, smiling down at her. That was when Charlotte ran up to the pair in a burlesque style dancer outfit, after the two girls had promised each other they'd find a way to wear corsets.

"Mon chéri!" Daphne greets in a mock French accent to match her costume. The girls hug, and Charlotte leads her to where George is leaning against a wall, dressed in his Bill costume, in conversation with a man they'd never met before. Daphne took a large gulp of her drink, interacting with drunk men had historically not gone well for her, this may be a long night she thought, as she joined the conversation.

A little while later, Daphne sat in the comfy armchair, sipping on her third glass of cabernet sauvignon, pausing when a familiar face walked in. Tristan Webb, Daphne smiled as she remembered the awkward dates they went on all those years ago at Hogwarts. He was always so cool or thought he was at least. He was the year above her at school, she remembered how he was always loitering around after her lessons to accompany her on the 5-minute walk through the corridors. Tristan had always made it known how much he liked her, but Daphne had bigger plans than settling down with some boy right after Hogwarts. Tristan had taken a while to give up after she rejected him, to focus on her internship. Much to Daphne's horror, there were even rumours that he was looking at engagement rings, although this obviously never came to fruition. Daphne was thankful for this of course, and as soon as she was warned that someone had spotted him ring shopping in London, she was already planning her rejection speech. She strategically looked away, but it was too late, he had spotted her and was making a beeline through the crowd, right toward her.

"Long time no see, Velps." Tristan cooed as he approached her.

"Hi Tristan." Daphne smiled, as Tristan perched on the arm of the chair next to her.

"How are you? I hear you're a big businesswoman now like you always wanted."

"I am, what are you doing with yourself these days?" she asks, taking a sip of her drink.

"I'm actually an analyst for the Montrose Magpies. I look at their games and tell them what they did wrong..." he replies, his attempt at bragging strikingly obvious, but not working at all.

"How thrilling." Daphne responds, although her face looked less than enthused.

"Never did like Quidditch did you, Daphne?"

"No."

"Explains why you never once went to any of my games." he says with a joking nudge,

"Well you never read any of my writing."

"All that divination stuff? Come on, you know it's a load of rubbish."

Daphne bit her tongue, not trusting herself to respond without coming out with something insulting. "What brings you here tonight anyway?"

"I still see Ron sometimes, he said I should come along and see some of the old quidditch lads."

"And ladies." Daphne adds, glancing over to where Ginny was ferociously guarding control of the speaker.

"Yeah... Anyway, still playing the part of the bitter old spinster?" Tristan asked, unable to hide the tinge of malice in his attempted jokey tone.

"Yes, I am." Daphne smiled, as Tristan carried on telling a story about a match he'd recently seen.

"Who on earth is that?" Fred asked, as he saw a boy with dark hair, parted in the middle, sitting on the armrest of his chair, chatting to Daphne.

"Tristan Webb... Think he was the captain of the Ravenclaw team after we left Hogwarts, wh-?" George answered, glancing at Tristan, "Oh..." He answered his own question, seeing who was sitting in the chair next to him. "You're awfully protective over a girl you claim not to like, Fred."

"Just don't like strangers in my house, that's all. Couldn't care less who he talks to." Fred explains as he forced himself to look away from where Daphne was laughing with Tristan.

\-----------------------

Later on in the evening, a few familiar faces showed up, already drunk. Angelina, wearing a halo, and a few of her friends from work, all adorned in various animal eared headbands. Daphne was sat laughing with Ginny as they took it in turns to put the most ridiculous songs they could find on, much to the dismay of many of the party guests, who had now heard "Sexbomb" by Tom Jones three times more than they would probably have liked.

"So I'm voting to play Hot Chocolate next..." Ginny proposes, taking the cd out of the case. Daphne was only half-listening, and had suddenly become fixated on how Angelina was grabbing Fred's arm as she spoke to him. Daphne tried to look away to focus on what Ginny was saying but found herself returning to stare at the pair.

"What are you staring at?" Ginny asked, following Daphne's gaze until it hit her brother and Angelina, "Oh." she smirked, putting the CDs back into their case.

"They went to the yule ball together didn't they?" Daphne asked,

"Yeah..." Ginny replied. Ron, who was sitting on the windowsill near them with Hermione. Having overheard their chat, he chimed in,

"Yeah, he asked her out after trying to prove a point to me that I was running out of time. Stupid git never told her that he tried it on with a girl the day before and got rejected. I've kept that one under wraps for a while..." He said, laughing as he drunkenly spilled a secret he'd kept locked away,

"Yeah, I know..." Daphne replied absentmindedly,

"What do you mean, you know? I've never told anybody that before, he threatened to kill me if I mentioned it to Angelina.... We were walking down the corridor before tea and he saw this girl and shouted 'oi gorgeous fancy a date to the Yule Ball?"

"And she replied, 'sorry I'm going with Draco...'?" Daphne finished his story for him, turning around and giving Ron a coy smile.

"Yeah, how did you?" Ron asked, "Oh, Merlin.... I didn't even clock on... It was you all along?" as he and Ginny's mouths dropped open in surprise.

"Unfortunately." Daphne laughed, raising her eyebrows, "Worked out though didn't it... They look like they're enjoying themselves." she concluded, gesturing towards the pair.

"Maybe that's why he's always so arsey with you?" Ginny theorised, shocked,

"Doubt he remembers it was even me. I bet he saw nice legs in a skirt and took his chance." Daphne laughed,

"Imagine if you'd have said yes... " Ron laughed, "He might not hate you like he does now.."

"He actually hates me?" Daphne asked, her laugh stopping,

"No... No, I don't mean that he, er- Ron fumbled over his words

"No it's fine, I'm going to ... grab another drink,. Daphne replied, standing up to leave. "Ron!" she heard Hermione hiss quietly, as Daphne slipped away to the kitchen to refill her drink.

Fred's face fell, his breath stopping as he saw Katie Bell walk in. In a cheap-looking policewoman costume. Rage seared through his veins, it had been years since he'd even spoken to her, let alone seen her in the flesh. Why was she here? Then, through the crowd of people, he saw Daphne, those electric eyes which usually filled him with such annoyance, now soothed his angered mind. That ridiculous hair, she'd stuck flowers and little blue butterflies throughout it. She gave him a small smile and he felt the rage melt away, as if Katie had never existed. Usually it was Daphne who made his blood boil like this, but seeing them just a few feet apart made him realise that he had far worse enemies than Miss Daphne Velps. To avoid the risk of causing a scene in front of all his friends and family, Fred slyly snuck into his room, glad to be rid of the hubbub of the party for a minute to collect his thoughts. He raked his hands through his red hair, visibly stressed. The number of drinks he'd had didn't help matters. He looked at his face in the mirror, whispering 'relax' to himself, trying to get his heart rate to return to normal. The sound of the door handle turning alerted him to someone entering the room, and Fred cursed himself for not remembering to put a locking charm on the door when he got in. He wasn't sure who else he was expecting, but was still disappointed when he turned around to see Katie Bell standing in front of him.

"Hi, Fred.." she begins, in a tone much too friendly for his liking,

"What are you doing in my house, Katie?"

"Angelina told me to drop by..." she continued, walking further into Fred's room, casting her eyes around to have a good look at everything, "It looks different in here..." she notes, before continuing with her first statement, "I thought it might be nice to catch up..."

"You thought wrong." Fred replies bluntly, standing near the window as Katie moved over to his desk, lightly ruffling through the pages with her fingers, "Get away from there..."

"Ooooh." She replies in a mocking tone, noticing the photo booth picture underneath the various receipts and order forms. "Very cute." She continues, casting lumos with her wand to get a better look at the pictures, in the darkened room. "Your new girlfriend?" she asks, a haughty tone in her voice,

"No."

"Then why do you have pictures of her?" she asks, "and she looks nothing like me, Fred... I'm offended."

"It's none of your business." Fred retorts, snatching the pictures out of her hand and putting them in the chest at the foot of his bed. "Would you kindly leave my room, and better yet fuck off out of my flat?"

"How very hostile, come on Freddie, I thought we could leave the past in the past." Katie cooed, touching Fred's arm. His response was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by Daphne entering.

"Oh..." she said, upon seeing Fred with Katie, "I'm sorry, Fred... I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine, Daph..." Fred assured, taking this as an opportunity to move away from his ex, "What's wrong?"

"I just wanted to go out on the fire escape... Trying to get rid of Tristan if I'm honest." she says, hastily shutting the door behind her,

"Of course... " Fred begins, opening the window which led to the fire escape. Originally there had been only one fire escape attached to the shop and the apartment, but just for good measure, due to the nature of their products, and the nature of the twins themselves, they had thought it wise to have another one installed from both of their rooms.

"So this is the girl?" Katie asks,

"The girl?" Daphne enquires, confused,

"I'm Fred's ex, Katie... I'm sure you've heard of me."

"No, he's never mentioned you, actually,. Daphne said cooly, immediately disliking the girl's haughty tone.

"Oh..." Katie begins, taken aback by Daphne's dismissal, "You must be his new girlfriend." Daphne laughs, "Where'd you find her, Fred?" scoffing at the girl's preposterous claim, Fred holds out a hand to Daphne, to help her climb onto the fire escape.

"I wish I could say it had been a pleasure..." Daphne said as her farewell to Katie, before hopping onto the fire escape and ascending it till Katie could no longer see her.

"Just like you.... Rude." Katie complained, looking out of the window in frustration.

"Leave." Fred ordered, and Katie admitted defeat and skulked out of the bedroom. Fred looked toward the door, contemplating joining his friends once more, then glanced to the fire escape, instead deciding to check on Daphne after her strange encounter with his dreaded ex. He climbed the steps, leaping up them two at a time as usual, till he found Daphne sat, legs crossed, on the next flight.

"Sorry about her." Fred apologised, sitting down next to her.

"It's fine, I've dealt with a few bitches in my lifetime. Well- I'm one of them." She laughs,

"You aren't." Fred replied, receiving a confused look from Daphne,

"Of all people, I would never expect to hear that from you."

"I give you a hard time but... you're nowhere near as bad as her." He explained, his leg settling in a position where it was pressed against hers

Daphne thought it best not to pry but wondered what on earth Katie could possibly have done to Fred.

"Sounds like she wants you back." Daphne proposed, nudging Fred suggestively,

"Not a chance in hell." he decided, noticing that Daphne was shuddering slightly in the cold October air. "You want to go back inside?"

"Not just yet, but you carry on, you can go enjoy the party." she offered, giving him a smile. Fred put his hand on her knee before getting up,

"Don't be long, you'll catch your death out here..." He warned, before grimacing "God, sorry, I sounded just like my mother then." earning a laugh from Daphne, before he walked back down the stairs to join the party. After 5 minutes of looking out at the street, decorated with orange pumpkins all around to celebrate, Daphne decided to return to the party. She stood up and had made up her mind to get roaring drunk to make up for the fact her ex was there. Maybe an extra shot because Fred's ex had taken a disliking to her too. She padded down the fire escape stairs, shivering as the cold night air had made her hands go numb. She was sure to close Fred's bedroom window behind her, venturing out into the living room, where the party was in full swing.

She grabbed Charlotte's arm as she walked into the kitchen. With a glint in her eye, Daphne asked,

"Bathroom?"

Charlotte nodded, checking to see if anybody was in there, and upon seeing it was empty, led the way as Daphne followed her. Within seconds of Daphne locking the door, Charlotte rummaged around in her bra and pulled a small bag of pale purple powder.

"Oh my dear, Alihotsy, how I have missed you." Daphne smiles, taking the bag and flicking it between her fingers so that all the powder settled at the bottom.

"It feels like ages since we did anything." Charlotte laments as Daphne reaches her little finger into the bag, lifting a small pile of it onto her nail. Daphne holds it out under Charlotte's nose, who presses a finger to block her opposite nostril and inhales. Daphne does the same, sighing,

"That's the stuff." She closes the bag and hands it back to Charlotte. "We really should stop working so hard and focus on more important things... like drugs." She states, decidedly, as Charlotte descends into a small giggle as the powder begins to settle into her system.

"Now let's find us some handsome ginger men." Charlotte began, approaching the door.

"You... Find you a handsome ginger man."

"I'm sure there's one for you here too." Charlotte teases,

"I can assure you there are none for me."

"That's not what George thinks." Charlotte laughs, clapping her hand over her mouth immediately,

"I wasn't meant to tell you that."

"Tell me what?"

"He just has a little theory. Oh, don't make me tell you. He'll tell you himself at some point."

"Fine, but you better hurry him up." Daphne said, suddenly too eager to get back to the party to bother with Charlotte's gossip.

Despite Fred's best efforts to take over the soundtrack of the evening, Ginny was immovable from the CD player. She was currently playing New Order, which nobody had challenged yet. Several shots, and a couple more trips to the bathroom later, Daphne and Charlotte were most certainly feeling in the party mood. The pair were in the middle of the living room shouting the lyrics to 'Temptation' to each other.

Fred was sitting with Lee Jordan, George, Angelina, and some of the old quidditch team chattering away about the good old days. Alicia Spinnet shared a chair with Angelina, who was leaning over to be as close to Fred as she could. Upon hearing the loud chants of Daphne and Charlotte in the middle of the room

"Oh, you've got green eyes!" Shouted Daphne, pointing at her friend,

"Oh, you've got blue eyes!" Charlotte shouted back,

"You've got greeeeyyyyy eyes." The pair shouted in unison, dancing jubilantly together.

Alicia rolled her eyes, making a face at Angelina, who raised her eyebrows in response.

"As if the sexed-up costumes weren't bad enough..." Alicia mocked, "Now they're making a racket." receiving daggers from George at the complaint about his date.

"I think they look scrumptious." Lee Jordan commented,

"Aren't your costumes sexed up?" Fred asked,

"No!" Angelina defended, making a point of pulling her short skirt down.

"So what's the issue with theirs?" George asked,

"It's just... girls like that, they're shallow... I bet neither of them has ever been on a broom in their life, let alone touched a quaffle."

"And? They're the ones having fun instead of sitting in the corner slating strangers." George said as he stood up, walking over to hug Charlotte around the waist, disturbing her from her dancing with a kiss.

"Touchy subject." Angelina laughs, as she and Alicia descend into giggles.

"And they've been doing drugs all night." Alica sneered, sipping her drink,

"You know I think I can see why you two are friends with Katie." Fred scoffed in disbelief.

"What did you say to her anyway? The last thing she said was that she had to go and she disappeared." Angelina complained,

"Just told her that she wasn't welcome."

"You've got to get over the break-up eventually Fred!" the girls lectured,

"Oh, believe me, I'm over it." he said, as he considered going to join his brother to dance, but when he looked up he saw Tristan dancing next to Daphne, grabbing her hands and making her spin around. Daphne was smiling, Fred had never seen her this let loose. The intricate updo she'd sported when she entered the room was now coming slightly undone, leaving bright white curls framing her flushed pink face. Tristan tried to get a little closer, and Fred watched as Daphne excused herself, creeping away to the bathroom. She returned minutes later, having tidied her hair and with even wider pupils. Fred's brow furrowed and he was sure the girls in front of him were saying something, but he wasn't listening, he was watching Daphne stumble her way back to Charlotte.

Daphne's heart pounded as she found herself once again third-wheeling Charlotte and George, who were wrapped in an embrace, dancing together to the slower song Ginny was currently playing. Tristan was still there trying to talk to her, although she couldn't hear most of what he was saying over the music and the ringing in her ears. The alihotsy was definitely working, however, as she found herself giggling uncontrollably at almost everything he said, despite none of it being funny.

The party was slowly ebbing out, people made excuses and went home. Ron and Hermione were the first to go. Ginny and Harry had packed up about an hour ago, taking Ginny's vomit stained Mario hat with them, at the demand of George. The quidditch players had gone. Thankfully including Tristan, not without offering Daphne a taxi home, which of course, she refused. Fred looked over to where his brother and Charlotte were in the kitchen, Charlotte sat on the counter, chattering away to George, who was still drinking.

"You're staying here tonight, yeah, Charlotte?"

"Yeah, why, is that alright?" Charlotte asked, wondering why Fred would ask her that.

"No worries." Fred responds, walking into the living room to stand in front of where Daphne sat on the sofa, flicking through their CD collection as she sang along to the Dire Straits.

"Let's get you home shall we?" Fred asked,

"I'll be fine on my own..." she responded, eyes darting between Fred and the CD case she held. There was a certain mania about her, and between the shake of her hands and the stumble in her steps, Fred decided it was best she didn't go home alone.

"No chance. Come on sunshine..." he said, holding out his hands for her to take, which she did. He pulled her up and said, "Didn't you bring a coat?" to which she shook her head, "You nutter, you'll freeze!"

"I'll be fine." she smiles, walking over to say her goodbyes to Charlotte and George.

Charlotte hugged her tightly and told her to get home safe, and George expressed similar sentiments, giving her a subtle wink as she approached Fred once again.

Fred walked out of the flat, grabbing an extra jacket on his way out, which he promptly threw over her shoulders as they walked out into the street.

"Do you want me to call a taxi?" Fred asked,

"Nah, I'd rather walk."

"Are you sure you're not cold?"

"What's with you and the cold tonight? You really are turning into your mother."

"Sorry."

"Surprised you didn't make a night of it with those girls, they certainly seemed to be enjoying your company..." Daphne observed,

"You were watching me, Velps?"

"Maybe."

"But I don't think so. They're old friends, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. And anyway, what about your admirer?" Fred asked nudging Daphne as they walked.

"Oh, Tristan?"

"You seemed pretty friendly with him."

"Please, that was only the alihotsy. He's never said anything amusing in his life." Daphne laughed, pulling the oversized jacket snug around herself to protect her exposed skin from the cool night air.

"So I hear, you used to go out with him."

"A long time ago. I was a very different person at 17."

"Somehow I doubt you were." Fred smiles, "So why did you dump him?"  
"How did you know I dumped him?"

"I can't imagine you being broken up with."

"Fair. You're right. And he didn't really like that I put work first. His friend told me he was planning to propose to me so that I'd become his little housewife instead of starting my internship." Fred laughed at this preposterous idea, "My thoughts exactly. You can imagine how I reacted." Daphne explains, "And I've not really been in any relationships since."

"No?"

"Between my job, and seeing my parents, and making sure Draco is okay... I don't have time."

"Making sure Draco's okay? He's a grown adult, you know?"

"I know but we've been through a lot together. He's been through a lot with his family, I'd never let him feel he was on his own through all of that." "Plus I don't want to spend money on a man. I'm going to save up and get my nose done." Daphne stated, pushing her finger against the tip of her nose to lift it slightly.

"Excuse me?" Fred asked incredulously, "Your nose?"

"And maybe my lips too. You know in the muggle world they inject stuff in your face? I might try it." she continued, squeezing her lips into a pout between her fingers.

"You're an idiot." Fred said, in a serious tone.

"What?"

"You don't need it."

"Need what?"

"Any of that shit. Your face is fine as it is."

"But just a little tiny bit off the middle of my nose would just really tie my face together, I think-"

"No. Don't change anything." Fred stopped, raising his hand to touch her cheek and grazing his thumb down her nose gently. "It's a lovely nose." Daphne smiled, unsure of what to say

"Okay." she agreed, in a hushed tone, her words causing a cloud of steam to billow from her mouth as her words hit the bitter air.

"I won't be your friend anymore if you do."

"You're not my friend anyway." Daphne smiled,

"Touche." Fred nodded, continuing their walk, as they turned the corner of the street she lived on.

They walked in comfortable silence until they reached her flat. Daphne unlocked the door and Fred stood hesitantly with his hands in his pockets for warmth.

"Thank you, for walking me home." Daphne said, in genuine appreciation. She pulled the jacket from around her shoulders, handing it to him. "And for the coat."

"No problem, Velps." Fred offered, taking the coat from her. He looked at the girl in her ridiculous costume, wanting to smile at how bizarre she looked with her white hair. Without warning, Daphne stepped forward to hug him goodbye. Fred, shocked, stood awkwardly for a second, before wrapping his arms around her shivering, exposed shoulders. Fred wondered what could have brought on this sudden outburst of affection that Daphne usually reserved for the girls around her. Until he reminded himself just how much alihotsy was probably in her system. Daphne buried her head into the warmth of his chest, savouring the heat and inhaling his scent, he smelled clean, like washing powder, with a hint of something spicy. Cinnamon, she mentally concluded. She'd never noticed how strong he was before, until this very moment where his biceps were tightened around her. Fred, without thinking, leaned his chin down to rest on her head, thankful that her updo had slowly fallen into loose curls that now fell around her shoulders. He'd never known her to hug Ginny for this long, he considered. Before the voice in his head repeated, alihotsy, to remind him of the reality of the situation. He felt her arms relinquish their grasp from around his back, letting his arms fall from around hers as she did so. She looked up at him, with wide eyes, "Goodnight." Fred muttered with a smile, finally moving his hand from the small of her back as she stepped towards her open door.

"Goodnight Fred, sweet dreams." she said, with a small wave, as she walked inside and shut the door behind her.


	9. A Shopping Trip

Daphne, as usual, was at her desk. Tuesday was her least favourite day of the week. The manager was always out, and she often ended up at the receiving end of everyone's problems because of this. Although today had been relatively peaceful, and she was currently getting through an unedited edition of a new muggle studies textbook the company was producing. She heard an apprehensive knock at her office door. Thinking it was her assistant, Ivan, she barely even glanced up from her work,

“Yes?” She asked, “Oh and Ivan darling can you chase up Elisa on that foreword from Lemony again, tell him he cannot keep banging on about his fiance or-” she continued as she paused the tape currently playing in her cassette player, and looked up. Only it wasn’t Ivan. Fred stood, rather sheepishly, in her doorway.

“I’m afraid I won't be able to do that for you.” he smiled, walking into the office and taking a look around. “Is now a good time?”

“Now’s fine.” Daphne replied, her brow slightly furrowed in confusion at his being there.

“I have come here today to ask for your assistance.”

“Doing what?” Daphne asked, placing a bookmark in the open text in front of her, to save her place, closing the book to give Fred her full attention.

“Well, it’s mom's birthday soon. I feel like me and George always get her something a bit stupid, so I was going to ask if you’d come shopping with me.” he asked, glancing around the office, looking at everything.

“I never thought I’d see the day where you ask me for help, Fred.” Daphne said, standing up and straightening her blazer, walking around the desk. “But I’d love to.”

“Dolly Parton, eh?” Fred asked, picking up the cassette she was currently playing.

“The best.” Daphne shrugged as if the statement were obvious.

“You’re a star, Velps. When are you free?” he asked, placing the tape carefully back where he found it.

“I have a day off on Thursday.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you on Thursday.” he smiled, pulling her planner from the desk and handing it to her. “If you can pencil me in, of course.” he noted, seeing how full the pages were, as she opened it.

“I’m sure I’ll manage. I’ll come to your flat at about half 11.”

“Lovely. Thanks, Velps. I owe you one.”

“You owe me for much more than that.” She smiled, writing their engagement into her diary.

“Let's call it even, considering how many times I’ve saved you from drunk perverts.”

“I mean that’s only been one and a half times.” Daphne bartered,

“Still.” Fred replied, “I’ll see you then.” he continued, backing out toward the exit.

“You could have just rang…” Daphne said, almost as if it were a question.

“Just wanted to see what stupid outfit you had on today, that’s why.” Fred deadpanned, looking her up and down. Daphne rolled her eyes, gesturing to her navy suit. “And just as I thought, stupid.”

“Leave before I change my mind!” Daphne threatened in a lighthearted tone, as Fred heeded her warning, and walked out of the room, back down the corridor he came from.

The following morning, Daphne walked through Diagon Alley, wrapped in a thick coat. The crisp air nipped at her hands, as she thrust them into her pockets to protect them from the cold. She had spent the night thinking about all sorts of things she could get for the Weasley’s mother, in anticipation of her shopping trip with them. Daphne approached the door of their flat, knocking sharply against the wooden door. George swung the door open,

“Hello, Daphne, how are you?”

“I’m good thank you, you? Are you looking forward to our shopping trip?”

“I’m wonderful thanks, Daph. But our shopping trip? It’s just you and Fred today.”

“Oh!” Daphne answered, “I assumed it would be all of us.”

“No just you two, I’ve got to go over some stuff for the shop while you’re out.”

“Alright, Daphne.” Fred greeted, as he left his bedroom, putting a coat on as he walked toward the front door.

“You two have fun.” George smiled, with a glint in his eye. He ushered Fred and Daphne out of the front door, closing it behind them.

“So where to?” Fred asked as he gestured for Daphne to take the lead and descend the stairs first.

“Do you have any ideas?” Daphne asked, “You know your mom better than I do of course.”

“Me and George usually just send her a big bunch of flowers.”

“Boring. Come on.” Daphne states, briskly marching down the street away from the twins’ shop, and toward the busy street.

The first stop was at a bustling little cosmetics shop. Fred stared at the wall full of sweet-smelling concoctions in bewilderment. Seeing how overwhelmed his face was, Daphne, who was stood at his side, prompted him with a question,

“So what sort of scents does your mom like?”

“How am I meant to know?”

“Do none of these smell familiar?” Daphne asked, picking up a glittering pot of a golden lotion, wiping a small amount of it on her wrist, and inhaling the scent. She offered up her wrist for Fred to sniff.

“I can’t even tell the difference between any of the smells. They’re all blending into one in here.” Fred voiced,

“You’re telling me you can make all these complex potions for the shop, but can’t recognise vanilla when you smell it?”

“In fairness, most of the shop products are meant to make stuff smell bad, not nice.”

“I know.” Daphne rolled her eyes, picking up a tester tube of lotion from another shelf. “You ever tried this?” she asked, the dark blue package called itself ‘Dreamtime.’ and had little silver stars dotted all around the title.

“What is it?”

“Mugwort lotion. It gives you crazy dreams.”

“Really?” Fred asked, taking it gently from her hands to read the ingredient list with curiosity.

“Remember we’re looking for stuff for your mom… Not the shop.” Daphne reminded him.

Fred took a new package of the lotion from the shelf, throwing it into the basket Daphne held under one arm.

“But hypothetically… If you were a kid at Hogwarts, would you buy an eye cream that made you see whatever you wanted to dream about?” Fred asked, and Daphne could see the cogs whirring behind those sparkling brown eyes. She had sensed the industrious thoughts that came no naturally to him a mile away. He smirked as she looked at him crossly, trying not to be amused.

“Very clever. But I don’t want any Weasley products going near my dreamscape.”

“Did you ever buy any of our stuff, when we were at school together?”

“You mean: did I ever want to skive out of lessons so badly that I forced illness upon myself with some sweets made by those two hooligans in the year above?”

“Actually I was two years above you. And is that a no?” Fred corrected,

“Keeping tabs on me, Weasley? Come on. We’re here for your mother. Not a trip down memory lane.” Daphne said, walking briskly to the other side of the shop where she picked up a round, caramel coloured bottle filled with a golden liquid. She took Fred’s wrist, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, and spraying the bottle on his forearm. Fred lifted it to his face, inhaling the aromatic fragrance.

“Nice.” He notes, looking at Daphne questioningly,

“Just nice?” Daphne asked, holding out her hands as if to emphasise her question and show her exasperation, “Is it something she’d like?”

“I suppose. Don’t all women like this stuff.”

“Just get it.” Daphne sighed, reaching up to try to pluck a fresh box of the scent from the shelf above her. However, her height proved to be an obstacle. Fred closed the space in between them and Daphne felt his abdomen pressing against her as he reached to the tall shelf with ease, picking up the box and handing it gently to the girl in front of him.

“Thanks.” She said quietly, looking toward the tills to avoid his gaze, noticing that he still had not moved from where he was standing, up against her. After a few seconds too long, Fred stepped back, asking

“Can we go? The smell of this place is giving me a headache.”

Daphne nods, ushering him towards the girl on the till, who scanned through the perfume and the dream lotion and put them in a bag.

The pair left the shop and Fred dramatically inhaled once they were back on the street, gasping for air. Daphne rolled her eyes, continuing down the street, ignoring his performance entirely.

“Where to?” Fred asked as he jogged to catch up with Daphne who had marched ahead.

“Fancy a trip to the muggle bit of the city?” she asked, walking toward the Leaky Cauldron. Fred’s eyes widened, it wasn’t often he ventured into the muggle districts of London.

“I suppose, where are we going.”

“You’ll see.” Daphne smiled. She headed through the door, holding it open for Fred as she walked through the pub filled with a few wizards. As they walked out of the front door onto the muggle street, Daphne led Fred to a nearby tube station. Fred, had a thrilled expression on his face as he stood amongst the small crowd on the platform. Daphne smiled at him, knowing that he’d be delighted to be doing something new. He followed close behind her as she boarded the tube. Fred stared inquisitively at some disgruntled-looking passengers, and Daphne summoned him by grabbing his hand as they approached the Knights Bridge stop. Fred clenched his fingers around Daphne’s small hand as he followed her out of the carriage, out into the busy station. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn she sensed some apprehension in his firm grasp. Their grip on each other continued until they were safely out onto the bustling street. Fred looked down at Daphne, who seemed to stare longingly at a large shop with a sign saying “Harvey Nichols.” but she shook her head, and led him further down the street. After about three minutes, they reached an immense, ornate building.

“Harrods.” Fred read aloud from the sign. Satisfied that they had safely reached their destination, Daphne dropped Fred’s hand from hers, immediately missing the warmth it provided. “What’s this?”

“A shop.” Daphne replied, entering the glass doors as if she owned the place. Immediately Fred was drawn in by the sweet smells of sweets as they walked into what seemed to be some kind of food hall. Daphne was already ahead of him, speaking to a merchant, handing over money in exchange for two small boxes. As Fred approached he peered over, seeing through a little plastic window in the boxes, tiny little fruits. He looked at her inquisitively.

“Sweets. Just for me, I have an idea for your mom.” She explains, smiling at the man who just served her, and walking away, leaving Fred to follow her.

After what felt like an age, wandering through various departments, Fred noted that the muggle shops were decidedly more boring than his own. Everything was placed so decidedly, and it was just so still. Daphne had led them to a room full of women's clothes, and as he approached her, he saw her holding a blue jumper.

“A jumper? She could just knit her own.”

“Exactly, so wouldn't it be nice to not have to go to that effort!” Daphne justifies, handing him the soft cashmere fabric to feel. “I noticed that you and George wear a lot of things I assume she knitted.”

“That’s very thoughtful actually, Velps.” he says, “She’ll feel swanky in a jumper from a store like this too.” he smiles,

“I have my moments.” Daphne agrees, and Fred goes to the small concession stand to buy the jumper.

“Thank you, Daphne.” Fred says earnestly, as the pair walk the streets of muggle London once again. “Come to think of it she never buys herself nice things, that was a really nice idea.”

“You’re more than welcome, Fred.”

“You’ll have to meet her at some point, I suppose.”

“Please, if I’ve learnt anything from working with you, it’s that I know I don’t make a good first impression with Weasleys.” she laughed. Fred smirked, thinking back to that afternoon he watched her through the flat window, knowing she was oblivious to the real, rather pleasant, first impression she gave him.

“Come on, George liked you!” he argued, “and besides, she’s actually a Prewett.”

“Like that will stop her from judging me. Those are both Sacred 28 families.”

“You say that like the Velps aren’t.”

“We may be, but my parents would take quite a liking to you, I reckon.”

“How come you know about all these muggle shops anyway?” Fred asked,

“My mother and I always used to come shopping here.” Daphne answered.

“And she bought you everything you’ve ever wanted.” Fred hypothesised, and Daphne nodded. “Seriously, have you ever been told no before?” he asked. For a moment, what he thought looked like a flash of hurt crossed her eyes, but she quickly returned to normal, laughing at his question,

“Not often.” She replied as they boarded the tube to make their way home.

The pair walked through the Leaky Cauldron once again, which was considerably busier now.

“Drink?” Fred asked,

“Only one.” Daphne replied, after pausing in surprise at Fred’s willingness to spend even more time with her. “I have a lot of work to do tonight.”

“I noticed in your schedule the other day.” Fred responded as they put their bags down at a table. “Still no hot dates though, eh?”

Daphne stared back at him as if she didn’t find that question very amusing, “No Fred, still not hot dates.” she replied, before walking toward the bar to get them both a drink. Fred smiled, realising just how enjoyable his day had actually been. Usually, both him and his brother found shopping a chore, unless it was at Zonko’s or Honeydukes. Girly shopping would have ordinarily seemed like hell on earth, but Fred realised this was the most fun he’d had in quite a while. Mom would love that jumper, and Fred applauded himself for ensuring that he and George would no longer give her the worst present of the year like usual. They may even do better than Percy, this time. Their self-righteous older brother almost always got their mother some expensive wool, which almost always got used on his jumpers. Wouldn’t be Percy if he wasn’t just looking out for himself, Fred thought, as Daphne returned with a pint of cider and a glass of red wine.

“Let me see those muggle sweets you bought.” Fred enquires, gesturing toward the green bag perched on the chair next to Daphne. She obliges, retrieving the two small boxes from the bag, placing them on the table in front of Fred. One was filled with those tiny little fruits, and the other with small oval-shaped sweets, in various pastel shades.

“Marzipan fruits, and sugared almonds.” Daphne explains, pointing to each box respectively. She tugs at the small plastic seal holding the box together, gently sliding the tray that held the fruits out of the packet. Picking up a small marzipan peach she holds it up to Fred’s face. Fred lingered for a second, before biting into it. Daphne took the remaining half and popped it into her mouth.

“No offence, Velps. But muggle sweets are really boring.” he said, after some consideration.

“I happen to enjoy sweets that don't assault you.” she smiled, carefully putting the plastic sheet of sweets back in the box, safely placing them back in the plastic bag they came from.

“Fair enough.” he replied, sipping his pint.

After finishing their drinks, the pair went their separate ways outside of the Leaky Cauldron,

as they journeyed back to their respective homes. The daylight was not yet waning, so Fred didn’t worry - too much, about Daphne walking home. So he left her to get back to her to-do list while he returned home to show George the unusually impressive gifts they’d managed to come up with.

When Fred returned to the flat, George was sitting on the sofa, sipping a bottle of lager and fumbling with the tv remote, absentmindedly flicking channels to find something worth watching.

“Hello” George greets, with raised eyebrows, “and how was it?”

“Fine.” Fred replies, trying to avoid his brother's usual questions about Daphne. “I got her perfume and a jumper, which was ridiculously expensive may I add. Daphne has very expensive taste.”

“We knew that from that tie she bought you.” George replied. Fred hoped his cheeks didn’t flush pink as he remembered where the tie was: folded up carefully next to the picture of Daphne in the photo booth, in the chest at the foot of his bed. Surely George hadn’t seen that, he hoped. Fred dropped the bags onto the coffee table,

“You can wrap them up, seeing as I did all the hard work.” he said, walking over to the fridge to retrieve a lager of his own.

George agreed, peeking in the bags to see his brother's shopping haul.

“Are we going tomorrow or Saturday morning?” George asked, the twins had agreed to spend the weekend at the burrow to celebrate their mother's birthday on Sunday.

“Whatever you want.” Fred replied, settling in on the chair. “George?” he began,

“Yeah, mate?”

“Do you think mom would like Daphne?”

“What do you mean? Just in general?”

“Yeah.”

“She might think she was a snob. But look how she was with Fleur, and she gets on with her now.” George considered, before continuing, “She’d probably like her unless she was dating one of her precious sons.”

“Yeah.” Fred agreed, picking at the label on his bottle, “can't have anyone stealing her boys away.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I was just telling Velps what she’s like, that’s all.”

“I see.” George smiled, not letting Fred see the knowing smirk on his face. Their mother hadn’t taken kindly to any of Fred’s previous girlfriends, and George wondered if it was just a coincidence that Fred was inquiring about Molly's opinions of Daphne.


	10. The Snowstorm

Snow blanketed Diagon Alley. The morning was bitter cold. The twins awoke and opened the shop as normal, but they felt the unusually bitter chill in the air. The boys had wondered why business had been slower than normal that morning, until they walked out outside a couple of hours later, to see the streets lined in a thick layer of fresh snow.

"But.... It's November?" Fred questioned, as large snowflakes fell onto his red hair. He carefully stepped further out onto the street, looking both ways to try and see anybody. Nobody was around, and the street was eerily silent. Fred stepped back inside and began brushing the snowflakes out of his hair when his brother replied,

"Very strange. I might pop to the ministry building, see if they know what's happening." George grabbed his coat from the hanger near the door, leaving his brother puzzling over the very unusual weather conditions. His shoes crunched through the snow, and as he walked through the streets he saw very few people were left in the shops, most must have apparated home before the weather got too bad to do so. Apparating at the best of times was a nightmare, but during a storm, you'd be asking for the flu.

Daphne sat in her office, a cassette tape played out the beat of ABBA. The woman was engrossed in the book in front of her, as she had been for most of the morning, highlighting through bits that needed changing. One of the company's clients was writing a rather gripping horror novel, which Daphne had been assigned to edit. She usually had Tuesdays off, but had come in anyway to get this book dealt with. Her pen tapped along to the sound of the music as she scanned over the page she was on until the music came to a halt as the final track had ended. Daphne went to pick up the cassette to wind it back to the start until she noticed the silence in the building around her. Of course, a book publisher was never the loudest of places, unless you were in the printing press. Although, Daphne was used to hearing a hubbub of the chatter of people in meetings, the coffee machine whirring away, and the occasional stomp of the manager's feet through the hallways. But today, silence. Strange, Daphne thought, opening the door to reveal a deserted corridor. Even Ivan, her PA, who was usually scurrying about the building, was nowhere to be seen. A quick glance at the window perplexed her even further. The view of Snicket Lane blanketed in snow was unheard of at this time of year! The window was flung open and Daphne peered out to get a better view. She'd realised a few weeks ago that if you stand to the left, you can see Weasley's Wizard Wheezes if you lean slightly. Although in what seemed to be a blizzard, Daphne couldn't see much at all. She noted how few people were on the usually bustling street and thought it wise to get out of work before the weather got any worse. Something definitely wasn't right. Her eyes flicked toward the twins' shop, as they seemed to do often, these days. The lights were on, and she hoped they were still in the shop, and might know what was happening. She shut the window and thought about what she might do. Her coat was hung up behind the door, so she put it on, fearing that it wouldn't warm her enough for the journey, but she had little choice. Daphne gathered the rest of her things, and left, carefully closing the office door behind her. She walked down the corridors and descended a few flights of stairs until she was in the reception area. Snow flurried down onto the street, and the light was dazzling through the large glass doors. Daphne didn't waste any time looking for anybody else, she darted out of the doors, into the freezing air. The coat was definitely, not warm enough.

Meanwhile, George entered the front door of the Ministry offices, there were people scuttling around in panic everywhere he could see. Bad weather always sent the whole city to pot, he thought as he saw people dashing to take the floo network home.

"What's going on?" George asked a receptionist, who looked more stressed than normal.

"Unfortunately I cannot divulge that sort of information. I am waiting for news from the correct departments." The woman relayed as if she'd said the same sentence a hundred times that morning.

"George!" He heard a familiar voice shout, he turned around to see his brother, Ron, and Harry, standing in the foyer. George walked away from the desk, toward his brother and his friend,

"What's happening?"  
"We're off home. Someone has cast a snowstorm spell almost across the whole Wizarding Quarter. It's even got into some of the muggle parts of London, The Ministry is going to have a right mare explaining a snowstorm in November to the Primeminister. The culprits floo powdered away apparently, some of the other Auror's went after him. Apparently the result of a bet gone wrong." Ron began explaining,

"Stupid git tried to set a snowstorm on the guy who owed him money, now it's covering half the city." Harry chimed in,

"They're about to send out a radio broadcast telling everyone to stop at home. They've sent people out to sort it but they don't think the snowfall will stop until tomorrow..." Ron explained, "Wish we'd have gone after him Harry, I'm going to have a nightmare getting home now."

"At least we've got the day off..." Harry offers,

"I better go back and close up the shop... Tell mom we're safe, she'll be having kittens.." George realised, thinking about how their mother would react to the radio broadcast.

"Good idea." Ron replied, and the boys said goodbye and went their separate ways.

George could barely see as he walked back toward the shop. The blanket of snow was getting thicker by the minute, he saw a few people scarpering home, but the streets were mostly empty now. As he trudged further away from the ministry buildings he passed Gutenberg square, the publishing quarter. Outside Buckling and Wicks, was a shivering Daphne Velps.

"Daphne!" he shouted, his words sounding strange as the snow muffled his shout.

She turned around, smiling as she saw a familiar face. George tried his best to walk toward her quickly, but the snowy ground was already slippery underfoot.

"What on earth is going on?" Daphne replied, trying unsuccessfully to warm her hands, which were too full of her bags of books, to get warm.

"Long story, I'll explain on the way.." George replied with a wince, as his feet began to go numb.

"I dread to think how long it'll take me to get home in this." Daphne laughed, knowing the walk home was going to be painfully cold.

"You can't walk home, Daph!"

"I don't have much choice really.." She replied, as they carefully trudged towards the main street, George careful not to overtake her, as his strides were considerably larger than hers.

"Stay at ours tonight, it won't stop until tomorrow, so we can walk you home safe then... and lend you some warmer clothes." George offered, nodding towards her coat.

"Are you sure?" Daphne asked,

"Positive. There's no way I'm letting you go home in this weather, you'll freeze!"

"Thanks George." Daphne offered, graciously.

They trudged around the street, turning onto Diagon Alley. As they approached the shop, Fred was locking up the front doors.

"Velps?" He asked, "Are you alright?" he asked, seeing how aggressively she was shivering. At this point, her hands were completely white, and she couldn't feel her feet at all.

"Need to get inside." She uttered through clenched teeth, in an attempt to stop them from chattering.

"I heard the radio broadcast they put out." Fred noted as they entered the stairwell up to their flat.

"Radio?" Daphne asked, "I've been listening to ABBA all morning, must have missed it. I was so engrossed with work, I didn't even notice the office was completely empty." she dithered,

"Fred loves ABBA!" George chirped, as he unlocked their front door.

"Really?" Daphne smiled,

"Yeah..." Fred mumbled, as he walked through into the flat. "I suppose."

"He's always playing them in his room..." George admitted, smirking as Fred shot him a glare. He then hurried through the living room, kneeling in front of the brick hearth, "Warmth!" George shouted as he quickly lit a fire in the fireplace, to warm the flat up.

Fred was already in the kitchen, boiling the kettle for a hot drink.

"You look ill, Daph..." Fred said quietly, as he turned around to see she had followed him, and her body was shivering uncontrollably.

"I'll be alright, I just feel the cold."

"I can see that..." he observes, pulling down a third mug from the shelf, picking out a large green one for her.

"Fred, I'm going to try and get in touch with mom, tell her we're alright. Can you grab Daph a change of clothes?" George asks, walking past them to go to his bedroom.

"Yeah... No worries." Fred agrees, and both George and Daphne are slightly taken aback by his compliance, seeing as he would usually offer up some sort of snarky response. Fred abandons the boiling kettle, and walks into his room. Daphne, desperate to warm herself up, walks over to the cups, popping tea bags in each one. She was surprised to learn, after shouting to them both, that the twins took their tea differently. George had no sugar and a splash of milk. Fred had two sugars, and a healthy dose of milk. The same way she took it.

George returned from his phone call with Molly, she was fretting, asking if they had enough food in. George quelled her fears and reminded her that it would be fine. George grabbed his mug from the countertop, taking a seat next to Daphne on the sofa. Fred emerged from his room, and George expected him to present them with one of his old t-shirts. However, much to George's surprise, he offered Daphne a warm-looking blue jumper. George glanced at Fred, who wouldn't meet his eye. Of course, Daphne was none-the-wiser, only George knew that Fred was presenting her with the jumper that happened to be his favourite.

Daphne smiled graciously, and George spotted that he'd also handed her a pair of joggers and a warm-looking pair of socks. The pile of clothes was warm to the touch, and it became apparent to Daphne that Fred had definitely either left them to warm on the radiator for a moment or had cast a spell to heat them up.

"Thank you, Fred. I'm just going to get changed." she thanked, walking towards the bathroom, and closing the door behind her.

"Nice choice of jumper." George teased,

"Was the first thing out of the drawer..." Fred explained, still avoiding his brother's gaze.

"Right..." George humoured him, smiling as he sipped his tea. Daphne returned from the bathroom and the twins chuckled at how large the clothes looked on her. The jumper swamped her, and she was holding the joggers up to stop them from falling down.

"Not quite the outfit I'm used to, but when needs must." she laughed, trying to tie the waistband of the joggers tighter, unsuccessfully. Fred shook his head as if to say that won't do. He stood up and walked over to her, taking his wand out of his pocket. Daphne stood still, unsure of what he was doing. His eyes met hers briefly, before he grabbed the waistband of the trousers, pulling it taut around her waist.

"Suturus." he muttered, casting a spell to put some stitches in the fabric, so they would stay up without her holding them. The pair stood, lingering for just a second longer, until Daphne breathed,

"Thank you."

They parted awkwardly, realising George's eyes were looking on in amusement.

"Mom taught me that... " He explained, turning to his twin. "She used to get us to help put together her knitting." he continued, returning to his place on the sofa. Daphne followed, sitting down in the armchair in her newly fitting clothes.

"What are we going to eat?" Fred realised, thinking about how bare their fridge currently was. It was already past lunchtime, and the twins usually lived on takeaways, despite their mother's gifts of cookbooks, in an attempt to drop hints.

"I'm sure we've got something." George considered,

"Let me have a look." Daphne offered

"I thought you new-age career girls couldn't cook?"

"I mean, I can try!" Daphne said while trying to remember when the last time she cooked something that wasn't in the microwave. She opened some of the cupboards George was looking in. "You've got noodles! We can just have those."

After rustling around in the boys' fridge, Daphne had managed to gather a few veggies from the fridge, which their mother insisted on sending every week, she discovered.

The twins stood behind her, looking on as she opened all the cupboard doors.

"What are you doing?" George asked, "You just put the flavour sachet in and they're done."

"George. You've lived here for this long and this is all you two cook? Noodles?"

"Mom never taught us!"

"You mean to tell me you never helped your mother cook?"

The twins smiled sheepishly, "She didn't trust us with sharp objects."

"I can't blame her." Daphne laughed. "I'll let you have a go though... One of you chop those veggies please."

Daphne audibly celebrated when she opened a cupboard to find some garlic powder and soy sauce. As George chopped quietly, Fred watched as Daphne began boiling water and dropped three packets of noodles in.

"We have soup too. For our tea." Fred reminded, "And I'm certain I could manage to make some bread and butter to go with it."

"Perfect." Daphne smiled, as she sprinkled salt into the boiling pan in front of her.

A few minutes later, Daphne was plating up a stir-fry as the twins looked on in amazement.

"That was quick." George noted, taking the bowl of noodles from her hands.

"Cooking isn't that hard, George. Even you could manage it."

"You're welcome by the way, this would be nothing without my magnificent knife skills." he admired, shoving a forkful of it into his mouth.

"Okay it's better than just the sachet." Fred admitted, slurping noodles into his mouth without much grace.

"Told you." Daphne smiled, taking a seat to eat her own meal.

The trio put on the TV and one of the channels was playing Four Weddings and a Funeral, which the twins had never seen, so Daphne demanded they watch it.

"He should have told her how he felt sooner. I'd never attend the wedding of a girl I still loved." George contested. He had rummaged around the cupboards and found a large bag of crisps, which they were now passing around.

"Nah, what if she didn't love you back." Fred debated,

"So?" George asked,

"If you truly loved someone, a rejection from them would be the worst heartbreak in the world." Fred argued, and Daphne was surprised at how romantic this sentiment was.

"Could you really live not knowing if the girl you liked ever liked you back?" George asked, gobsmacked.

"Yeah, I think. If it were best for her." Fred debated, as he picked up their empty bowls from the table, to take them to the sink.

"Wuss." George said as Fred walked to the kitchen. "He's quite the romantic... Secretly." George whispered to Daphne, who smiled.

"I bet he'll cry at the end of this." Daphne whispered back, "but then again, so will you."

Meanwhile, Fred had cast an incantation on the washing up, which was now cleaning itself in the sink. He returned to the sofa to join the others, continuing to watch the film. Sure enough, both boys were welling up before the end.

Later that evening, after the twins had managed to rustle up soup, served with bread and butter. Fred was settled on the sofa and had lit a fire in the fireplace to provide some warmth from the bitter cold outside that seemed determined to creep in. Daphne was sitting in the armchair with her legs pulled up to her chest twirling her hair absentmindedly as she watched the tv. George was in the other room, on the phone to Charlotte, who was in the Midlands for the night for work, completely unaware that there was even snow in Diagon Alley to begin with. George returned from his phone call, and Fred and Daphne began teasing him about Charlotte. Lightheartedly asking when the wedding was planned for since George had become so besotted with the girl. It was hard to get through a conversation with him without him mentioning her, not that his brother minded, of course, he loved seeing George happy.

"Good thing she's not in London, otherwise George would be traipsing through the blizzard to make sure she was alright." Fred laughed

"One day you'll find a girl you'd want to traipse through the snow for." George rebutted,

"I doubt it." Fred dismissed. Their conversation continued until Daphne began yawning.

"Let me sort the sofa out for you." George insisted, getting up and shooing his brother off of the comfy sofa. He recited a simple transfiguration spell and the couch extended into a soft-looking double mattress. Fred walked over to the airing cupboard he once spent an afternoon trapped in with Daphne. He pulled down some bed sheets and blankets from the top shelf and placed them on the bed. He too, set a quick transfiguration spell on the sheets, turning them a shade of baby blue.

"More to your taste." he explains, as Daphne takes the sheet and covers the mattress with it. She throws herself backward until she is lying flat on the bed, admiring George's spellwork.

"Very comfortable." She concludes, "Thanks so much, boys."

"You're welcome." George offers, before deciding, "I think I'm off to bed myself. Daphne, help yourself to anything you need. See ya tomorrow." he said with a smile, walking off toward his bedroom and closing the door behind him. This left Daphne with Fred, who was now hovering awkwardly next to the makeshift bed.

"I suppose I better go aswell." he said, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly.

"Thanks again for the clothes." Daphne smiles, pinching the fabric of the jumper she was wearing between her thumb and finger.

"Do you want something to sleep in? I can get you a t-shirt."

"Are you sure you don't mind?" She asks, "I'm more than happy to go naked." she continues, laughing at Fred's shocked expression. It dawns on him that she was just joking, and he lets out a laugh, walking over to the laundry basket full of fresh washing that was still next to his room, unfolded. He pulls out a clean, but slightly creased t-shirt throwing it to Daphne.

"Velps can make jokes."

"I'm not joking, turn around." she demanded, pulling at the hem of her jumper as if she was going to pull it off over her head. Fred's eyes widened and Daphne stopped, laughing at him. "For someone who owns a joke shop, you're surprisingly easy to fool."

"You're scary with a sense of humour." Fred smiles, his cheeks flushed slightly. "Goodnight, Velps."

"Sleep tight, Fred." Daphne smiles, as Fred retreats to his bedroom.

Daphne pulls the jumper from her body and picks up the t-shirt Fred gave her. She checked behind her shoulder just to confirm the twins were definitely in bed, and she put the soft fabric against her face. Even though it was freshly washed the shirt smelled decidedly like Fred, it had the lingering smell of something vaguely autumnal, and warm. Something about it was just comforting, and made her feel better about spending the night in a bed she'd never slept in before. She donned the t-shirt, which was massive on her. She then wiggled her way out of the joggers Fred had sewn together, she looked down at her feet at the thick socks the supposed meaner twin had provided. For a second, Daphne considered keeping them on, as the night was definitely colder than she'd like, but she thought better, and took them off, rolling them neatly into a little ball.

Daphne curled up under the blanket. While the twins' flat had provided a toasty warm retreat from the snow, the temperature was now dropping since they had turned the fire off before bed. They had left the curtains open, and Daphne could see the slow, but steady trickle of snowflakes still falling from the sky. The lanterns of Diagon alley lit them up as they fell. It wasn't long before she drifted off, legs curled up to her chest to stay warm.

Daphne slept soundly until about 3 am, when a clinking sound snapped her out of her slumber. She shot up, forgetting where she was for a minute. It slowly dawned on her as she looked out at the bay windows, and she turned around to investigate the source of the noise. She could vaguely make-out, from the very slight orange glow of the street lights far below, that one of the twins was standing at the sink with a glass of water.

"You could have given me a bloody heart attack." She whisper-shouted at whichever twin it was, she couldn't tell in this lighting.

"Sorry, Velps." said the voice she immediately recognised as Fred's. "I couldn't sleep."

"I love the snow." Daphne said, changing the subject as she ignored his reply, staring out at the window at the snowy rooftops around them, "gorgeous isn't it?"

"I've always been more of a summer person." Fred replied, walking over to the back of the sofa so he stood behind the girl.

"I can tell." she replied, looking up at him from where she sat

"You can?"

"Yes, you're warm."

"Not right now I'm not." he said

"No I mean your whole aura. You're warm." Daphne explains and notices that Fred is standing rather awkwardly. The girl moves over slightly, tapping the makeshift bed next to her, inviting him to take a seat, which he obliged.

"You really think so?"

"Yeah you're a bit tempestuous I'd say. Like a really hot day when a storm finally breaks it."

"I'm not sure if I know what you're on about, Velps. But it sounds nice."

"George is a warm person too. But he's more of a sunny afternoon person. Ginny is when you open the curtains first thing in the morning and you see how bright the day is going to be."

"I think I get what you mean, sort of. You bloody poet types."

"It's a much nicer way of looking at the world than non-poet types." Daphne retorted,

"Well, I'd say you were an autumnal morning." Fred hypothesises, and Daphne looks pleased enough with his theory until he continues "only joking, you're an earthquake."

"I'm going to try and not take offence to that, but only because you've taken me in in my time of need."

"What can I say, George loves a damsel in distress."

"George didn't give me his best jumper and warm joggers."

"How do you know it's my best jumper?"

"I've seen the other things you wear, Fred. It's your best jumper." She joked, looking at where she had carefully folded the cashmere garment and placed it on the arm of the sofa.

"Sorry, I forgot you're a fashionista. Could hardly give the best-dressed girl in Diagon Alley any old clothes now could I?"

"I thought my outfits were silly?" Daphne asked, referring to the conversation they'd had the week prior.

"We both know I don't mean it, Velps." Fred said, relaxing slightly on the bed.

"Can I ask you something?" Daphne asked, her face dropping into a slightly more serious expression.

"I suppose." Fred replied

"Why were you so mean to me when we met?"

"I wasn't that mean..." Fred began to refute until he saw Daphne's look of disbelief. "Well, I think it was when you told me I must have never been in love."

"Really? All of that because of a little joke?"  
"It struck a nerve I suppose." he sighed, recalling the conversation with a smile.

"I was only teasing!"

"I know. I think that's why I was upset though because you were absolutely right."

"Oh, now I'm sure that's not true." Daphne begins, placing a hand on Fred's forearm. "I bet you're a right womanizer... and I met your ex at that party anyway, so I know you're telling me lies."

"I dabbled." Fred admitted, "And I was hardly in love with Katie. You saw what she was like, could you love that?" and Daphne shook her head in response, "I thought I did, once. But I was a kid. Now I think, whatever I felt then, that can't even be half of the real thing."

"I have to say, in spite of how rude you may have been to me in the past, I really did expect you to have a nicer girlfriend." Daphne admitted, thinking about how horrible the Katie in question had been that night she met her.

"Ex-girlfriend, thank you very much. And she was nice... at the start. Sorry, I'm sure you don't want to hear all about my old relationships."

"I do! I love a good love story."

"I wouldn't quite call it a love story." Fred replied, wincing at the notion.

"Even better." Daphne replied, settling in to hear the story,

"You're sure?" Fred asked, receiving a nod from Daphne as she pulled the large blanket snug around her, after throwing half of it over Fred's legs. "Well it all started four years ago...."


	11. Love Potions

Four Years Earlier.

Fred was in the office of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, casting various spells at scraps of Taffeta, turning them various shades of pink. It was a bustling Friday afternoon, and the shop was doing well. With it being the summer holidays, there were kids frolicking excitedly throughout the shop, and Fred had escaped to the office to get some peace and quiet from the hubbub of the shop floor. 

He was perfecting their new line of Love Potions, currently changing the colour of the fabric that adorned the bottles. While a lot of girls enjoyed their normal product lines, the twins had decided that to break into the teenage girl demographic, they really needed to work on their range of love potions. Fred looked over the sheets of product proposals in front of him, smiling proudly at his handiwork. The ornate bottle shaped like a moon was labelled "Twilight Moonbeams.", another labelled "Crushed" and another labelled "Dream Girl." along with a few others he and George had yet to name. 

Of course, due to the nature of love potions, the manufacture of them was strictly watched by the ministry, to ensure nothing dangerous was going on. So the Weasleys had come up with this proposal for the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement, to prove they weren't plotting for these potions to be used in any nefarious ways. Of course, the twins were more than careful about the safety of these products. The stronger potions were only allowed to be sold to Wizards and Witches over 16 years old, with the exception of "Puppy Love." A sweet little cordial in a bottle shaped like a wide-eyed-puppy, the potion was so weak it was available to even first years. Fred and his brother had also come up with an enchantment to ensure that if the person using the potion had any perverse intentions, the potion would immediately stop working. 

As Fred went through his carefully written notes, George poked his head round the door,

"You mind helping me on the tills for a bit? We've only got 20 minutes till closing."

"No problem mate. I think our proposal is just about done." Fred says with excitement, getting up and patting his brother on the shoulder as he walked back out into the shop.

After closing, George went to the office and gathered up all the sheets of paper their proposal was written on, taking it back up to their flat as they finished work for the day.

Over a cup of tea, the twins discussed the currently unnamed potions further, trying to nail them before the weekend was done. The meeting with the Ministry was in three weeks, as it happens, they don't tend to prioritise the affairs of joke shops.

"Enamoured Elixir?" George suggested as Fred scribbled it down. Each of the potions had slightly different results because they were trying to achieve a range of products to suit every type of crush there could be.

"I still like Paramour Punch." Fred offered, gesturing to one of his previous sketches until he was interrupted by the door flinging open. Katie threw down her coat and kicked off her shoes, hurling herself into the sofa next to Fred.

"Hi Katie, didn't know you were coming round." Fred greeted, kissing her cheek.

"I did tell you!" Katie lectured, "I've had such a long day at work, can we order in?"

"Hi." George announced, trying to alert her to the fact he was there since she hadn't given him any kind of greeting.

"Oh, hi George." Katie offered, stretching herself out on the sofa.

Once again, Katie asked,

"So, shall we order a takeaway?"

"Whatever." Fred replied absentmindedly, still giving his undivided attention to the product proposals in front of him.

"Fred!" Katie said, in a much louder tone, "You've finished work for the day! Let's focus on dinner."

"You know it's a stressful time, Katie. There's still a lot to do before the meeting." Fred said exasperatedly. Katie however seemed not to notice how stressed her boyfriend and his twin currently seemed, and instead picked up a menu from the local Chinese restaurant and began flicking through it.

A little while later, Fred walked to the takeaway with Katie, as the sun began to set. After Katie interrupted their work they thought they wouldn't get much done now she was there, so just gave in and agreed to order Chinese takeout. As the couple strolled down the street, Fred noticed a girl looking a little bit lost, and shot her a look as if to non-verbally ask if she was okay. The brunette smiled and approached the couple,

"Hi, I'm so sorry to bother you both. This is so embarrassing. I only moved here on Wednesday, and today was my first day in the office and I don't know how to get home." she flustered. Katie looked her up and down, the stranger was wearing a satin skirt that fell to her calf, and a shirt with billowing sleeves, and a pair of heels that were struggling to stay stable on the cobblestone street.

"No worries." Fred smiled, "where do you live?"

"Stanley Street." the girl replied, pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head.

"Not far from the post office?"

"That's the one."

"Easy, keep walking down the main road, left past Pierre's, keep going up there until you reach that Jewellers, turn right, and it's 10 minutes up that street."

"You're a star! Thank you so much." the girl replied, smiling at the pair as she scrambled off in the direction Fred had told her to. Katie rolled her eyes,

"What?" Fred asked,

"Her."

"What about her?"

"As if she lost her way, I bet she was just trying to flirt with you."

"In front of my girlfriend?"

"Yeah, did you see her outfit? So full of herself."

"She was nice." Fred responded, continuing his walk to the takeaway.

"Please, if I ever show up to work in heels and a skirt like that, I hope they'd sack me on the spot."

"You're a receptionist at St Mungo's, Katie. They wouldn't see you behind the desk."

"Whatever, I just could never be the kind of girl who parades around in sunglasses like that, thinking she was the queen of the world."

"You're not a better person than her because you're wearing jeans and a hoodie, love." Fred reminded, bored of the conversation. Jealousy was becoming more and more common with Katie these days. Fred often wondered if it was his fault, but he never did anything he thought would be worth being jealous of. Last week it was the shop assistant who told him to have a nice day, he had an earful all the way home because he'd said: "You too." Katie noisily huffed at his observation, making it clear she thought he was ridiculous. Although Katie had never been a girls-girl, so her response was no surprise to Fred.

Fred and his girlfriend picked up their meals with no further interruptions and headed back to the flat. As they returned, George was still sitting at the coffee table, scribbling notes onto some sheets of paper that had their love potion proposals written on them. George stopped his work, taking the bag from Fred's hands to empty the contents out on the part of the table that wasn't taken over by Weasley paraphernalia.

"I don't get why you're making these love spells." Katie complained as she peered over George's shoulder at the papers.

"Come on, Katie. You're telling me you wouldn't have used a love spell on me back in the day?" Fred teased, from where he stood in the kitchen, pouring them all drinks.

"Are you implying that you would need a love potion?" Katie asked, voice shrill and annoyed.

George winced at the sound of Katie raising her voice. The arguments were becoming more and more frequent. When they had started dating, just after the battle of Hogwarts, George really liked her. They'd always been friendly in school so the match seemed fitting. Fred seemed happy, and that was good enough for George. The jealousy started in bits and pieces, sly comments here and there, but had slowly developed into a festering elephant that stood silently in any room the couple shared. 

George couldn't help but notice how downtrodden his brother had become. Fred was usually such a fiery person, but he wasn't even getting angry at Katie's ridiculous accusations that had become so common, he was just accepting it. That was not the Fred that George knew. About a year into their relationship, Katie had taken a quiet dislike to George, so he suspected after she became convinced that he wanted Fred to be single because he was too. Sometimes, George shamefully hoped that Fred would act how Katie feared, and cheat on her because at least then she might leave him. But that wasn't Fred, he was loyal to a fault, once he'd set his mind on something. If anything, George knew that Fred would be loyal if only to prove Katie wrong.

"No!" Fred remedied, "I was just joking. We've had this conversation before, Katie. You know this is going to be a massive deal for the shop."

"I know, I know. I just get worried that I'm not enough for you. I don't want you to ever use those potions on another girl."

"Katie don't be stupid." Fred said, shaking his head, having heard this same argument what felt like a hundred times before. "Let's just eat, shall we?" he asked, changing the subject.

After their meal, Katie seemed to have relinquished her determination to argue with Fred, and instead took herself off to bed. The brothers carried on their evening as normal, before retiring to their own bedrooms. 

George, unusually, was finding it hard to sleep that night. He looked over at the clock on his bedside table and saw it flashing at 2:34 am. He sighed, realising he would be unable to sleep, he decided to get up to make a drink. As he reached for the cupboard in the kitchen where the boys kept their hot chocolate powder, he tried to be as silent as possible, to avoid waking his sleeping brother and Katie. Although a slight creaking sound stopped him in his tracks, George quickly realised they were footsteps, coming from Fred's room. 

George knew after many years at the burrow, that they were definitely not footsteps belonging to Fred, who just like him and the rest of their family, had almost no ability to be quiet. 

Why is Katie up at this hour? He wondered and resolved to lurk in the corner of the kitchen where the moonlight from the living room windows struggled to reach, so he could jump out at her. George suppressed a snicker as he thought about making Katie jump, he admittedly, was not her biggest fan, and he always took delight in a prank on someone he didn't like too much. Quietly he waited, and the door handle turned, very slowly, as if Katie too were trying not to wake anybody up. George stood silently in his concealed corner, watching as she crept quietly out of Fred's room. 

To George's surprise, she didn't reach for the light switch, or head to the bathroom, like he had assumed she would. She instead, crept across the floorboards, to the living room, where she crouched down near the table. 

What the hell is she doing? George asked himself, completely perplexed at the girl's behaviour. He noted that she wasn't in pyjamas, she was dressed in normal clothes, looking a bit out of the ordinary at nearly 3 am. George watched her, trying to breathe as quietly as he could. Katie scooped up all of the papers that were strewn about the table, quietly piling them up and placing them in a bag. George's eyes opened wider in confusion as she slipped out of the front door.

Hurriedly, George scampered over to where she collected the papers, all of their work on the new love potion line had been taken. After glancing through the peephole in the door, he saw that she wasn't out there. He was determined he must follow her, and was hoping that the horrible feeling of suspicion in his stomach wasn't justified. He slipped out of the door, carefully stepping on each step down to the exit, in order to not alert Katie if she was still in the building. She wasn't, so George stepped out onto the street, and saw Katie walking swiftly down Diagon Alley, turning onto a side street further up the road. George followed, whispering a silencing charm on his footsteps, so he could catch up with her quickly and quietly. 

He hid around the corner of the street she turned, peering up as he watched her stride toward the quieter streets, where there were less shops. He continued to follow, carefully, until she began walking a little slower, reaching a parked green car, with the engine running, but no headlights on. George peered around a wall, and watched as the faint orange street lights allowed him to see the man in the car get out of the driver's seat. 

He recognised the man as Adam Bilmes, the son of Bilton Bilmes, who owned Zonko's in Hogsmeade. Adam had been desperate to take over the family business and was rumoured to be trying to open a London Branch to rival Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. George's heart sank as he witnessed the exchange. Katie waved the bag at him, with a delighted expression on her face. Adam walked over to her, taking out the sheets which demonstrated the Weasley's hard work, and inspecting them with a grin across his face. 

George's fists clenched in rage, as much as he didn't like her, he never anticipated that Katie was capable of something like this. But evidently, she was. Adam Bilnes put the papers back in the bag, taking them from her eagerly. After this, he saw him wrap his arm around Katie's waist, pulling her into an embrace.

George's blood boiled as he watched Katie kissing a man who was not his brother. Unable to take the sight any longer, George marched toward the pair, loudly casting a full body bind curse on Adam Bilmes. Bilmes fell to the floor as Katie turned toward George with a look of horror on her face. George leaned down picking up the bag of his own work from Adam's petrified body.

"Don't ever come back to the flat again." George spat at Katie, "Fred won't want anything to do with you when I tell him what I've seen tonight." he continued, she opened her mouth to respond but could manage to get any words out. With that, George apparated home.

In that flat, the crack that sounded out when George apparated home awoke Fred from his sleep.

"George?" He asked, as he opened his bedroom door, rubbing his tired eyes, "What's going on mate, where's Katie?" he asked, yawning.

"She's gone." George sighed, not excited to break the news of what he just saw to his brother. "I followed her out. She took our plans and gave them to Adam Bilmes?"

"You what? Bilmes as in Zonko's Bilmes? Are you having me on?" Fred asked, waking up slightly at this statement.

"No. She was going to give him all of our work, and then," George paused, looking at his brother, "She kissed him. I'm sorry mate."

"What a bitch." Fred concluded, "Did you?" he asked, not having to finish his sentence because George knew what he meant, and held up the bag of their work in response.  
"I got it back."

"Thank god."

"Are you okay, Freddie?"

"Fine. It was going to happen sooner or later wasn't it. Me and her splitting up I mean, not the betraying us to our business rival. I have to give it to her, I didn't expect that."

George smirked, more so out of obligation than amusement. Of course, his brother had to joke his way through the whole situation.

"I'm going to hide these. You get back to bed. I am really sorry, mate." George replied, knowing his brother would more than likely want to stew alone in his room. So George waited for his brother to nod in response, and go back to bed before he retreated to his own room.

The following morning, the twins headed down to the shop as normal. The tension was palpable. George, not wanting to push his brother into any uncomfortable conversations, crept around the events of last night by talking about the usual banalities of their morning. Fred seemed thankful for this, so George resigned to waiting for his brother to address the situation first.

The day at work seemed to drag on for far longer than normal, for both of the boys. Fred, noted to himself how unbothered he seemed by Katie's betrayal. The cheating, of course. The business betrayal was unforgivable. He spent the long day piecing together moments that were suddenly starting to make sense. The jealous remarks, the snide comments, her envy of every woman Fred came into contact with all made sense now. It wasn't his own fault at all, he realised, she was just guilty. If anything Fred was relieved to learn about what Katie had been doing. He had become altogether too comfortable with her, and worried that if this hadn't of happened, god knows how long they would have been in their unfortunate relationship. 

Finally, the end of the work day neared, and George shut the front doors to the shop before joining Fred in the office. George gave his brother an expectant look, and a sad smile. He always wanted to know how he was feeling, Fred, now more than ever, resented his brother's caring nature.

"I'm fine." Fred answered, despite George not having to ask anything. "I am, promise." he continued, after George shot him another look.

"I genuinely think it's for the best mate." George commented, "You can do better anyway."

"I should hope so... and you know what, I hope the next girlfriend I have has a bit of business savvy. Our competitor? How predictable." Fred criticised Katie's actions.

"I wish you could have been there. I wanted to beat him up." George lamented, regretting only putting Mr Bilmes in a body bind, and not knocking some sense into him.

"Ain't worth it mate, let them have each other. Hope they're happy." Fred smiled, trying to assure his brother, he really was okay. Even Fred himself was surprised at how much he truly meant what he said. George seemed satisfied with Fred's reassurance and got right back to business, peering over the logbook Fred had been reading. Fred opened his mouth to explain what he'd been working on when a loud thud interrupted them.

George looked at Fred, knowing he'd shut the door, worried that he'd forgotten to lock it. Fred, equally confused, sprang to his feet and marched out into the corridor, and onto the shop floor to investigate.

The thud had been a box of Whiz-Bang fireworks. Stood over them, was Katie Bell.

"I thought I told you to stay away." George began before she replied,

"Fred, I needed to see you."

"I've packed up your things Katie. I was going to send them by owl but seeing as you're here. I can get them for you." Fred replied in an emotionless tone.

"You can't be serious!" Katie replied, stomping her foot on the ground in a display of her annoyance.

"I am serious. You're a cheat, and even worse than that, you're a turncoat."

"You don't understand! I didn't cheat."

"You were just giving that bloke mouth to mouth then, Katie? Part of your training at the hospital was it?" George questioned, laughing in disbelief.

"You're lying!" Katie exclaimed,

"Come off it, Katie." Fred said, crossing his arms.

Fred was almost offended that she thought he'd for a second believe her over his own brother.

"What other choice did I have?" Katie asked, voice shrill and almost shouting.

"Choice? What on earth are you on about?" Fred responded, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe he was having this conversation.

"I had to do something to stop you putting out those bloody love potions! What kind of girlfriend would stand idly by and watch their own boyfriend sell love potions to other girls!" She said, voice even louder this time.

"You're ridiculous. I knew this would all come back to jealousy. You need help, Katie." Fred dismissed.

"I'm right, aren't I? You didn't love me anymore, I knew it! You would have used one of those love potions on some other girl, and forgot all about me."

"So you decided to find comfort in the arms of our competitor?" Fred asked,

"I had no choice!"

"Get lost, Katie. I have absolutely nothing to say to you. I'll send you your stuff." Fred said, turning to walk away when Katie pushed yet another box of fireworks onto the floor.

"I should have known better. All that time at Hogwarts, you flirted with everyone! It's no surprise you turned out like this."

"Turned out like what, Katie? You're the one who cheated." George chimed in, defending his brother.

"You're just as bad!" Katie screamed, "You two and your stupid shop! I hope someone uses those love potions on you, so you know how it feels to love someone you know doesn't love you back!" she continued, tears welling up in her eyes. Although anybody could see this outburst was uncalled for, this last accusation made a lump of guilt settle in Fred's chest. How long had he not been in love with her? He asked himself, Did he ever love her to begin with? He wasn't sure, but knew, whatever the answer, he most certainly did not love her now.

"Get out. Katie." he said calmly.

"No!" She screeched, tears falling in large droplets down her face, which was turning red and blotchy with her anger. "Fuck you!" She shouted at Fred, before turning to his brother, "And Fuck you!"

"Charming..." George responds, earning a snort of laughter from his brother. This small laugh seemed to aggravate Katie even more, and she pointed her wand toward the shelf of Whiz-Bangs.

"Incendio." she muttered, sending a spark of orange flames shooting from her wand. The boxes of fireworks began to burn. "Incendio." she said again, louder this time, lighting a few more boxes on fire. "Incendio." She said once more, aiming her wand at random.

By now, Fred and George were ducking to the floor as fireworks were beginning to explode all over the east wall of the shop. The explosions were ruining other displays as they landed on them, and soon the air was beginning to fill with thick grey smoke.

George, took this opportunity to stand up, and performed the same full body bind spell he had used that night, on the girl in front of them. Fred worked swiftly to extinguish the fires with a spell from his wand, but the damage to the shop was obvious before the fire had even cleared. 

As the Ministry came to deal with Katie, Fred looked down at the burnt display, a charred black mess, he sighed as he saw so much of his and George's hard work in scatterings of ash on the floor. As two Aurors took the crying girl away, George placed a comforting hand on Fred's shoulder as the brothers wordlessly watched on.

George opened his mouth to say something as the authorities left the shop.

"Don't.." Fred interrupted, kicking at the charred flooring softly. "Can we not tell anyone about this?" he continued, turning around to face his brother.

"Of course. Whatever you want."

"I'm just going to tell people we drifted. It's true after all."

"Why not tell them what actua-" George began asking,

"Because I look like an idiot." Fred muttered.

"You don't." George reassured

"I feel like one." Fred said, looking away from the mess left in the shop, and deciding they could deal with it tomorrow. 

He began trudging upstairs, back to the flat. George watched as Fred said nothing more on the occurrences, and shut himself in his room. They rarely spoke of the incident after that day, not even in jest. 

That night, Fred sat in his room and cried, heavy, furious tears plopped down onto the bedsheet below him. His head felt thick and clouded as he held it in his hands. It wasn't that he was even sad about the breakup, he just winced with anger at the thought of her ruining what he and George had worked so hard for. That stupid girl, with her stupid brainless ideas, all because of what? Love? A foolish notion, he thought. It was then he vowed, after wiping his salty tears from his blotchy face, he would never risk falling in love again.


End file.
